


Ain't no Crying 'til the Wars done

by Living_Fast



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: A world of War, AU, Aftermath of Violence, Age Swap, Angst, Animal Instincts, Autistic Character, Autistic Technoblade, Blood and Injury, But I honestly don't give a shit, But everyone thinks he is, Canon-Typical Violence, Chat is a warning in it's own now, Child Abuse, Clout chasing???, Death, Don't ask me what goes on in my brain cause Hell if I know, Dragon Hybrid Phil, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Found Family, Gaslighting, Gen, Good Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), He's not a hybrid though, Hell, His only child actually, Hurt Technoblade, Hybrid Philza, Hybrid Technoblade, I don't know how to tag this really, I really played with his character this time, I will make this a thing if its the last thing I do, It causes problems, Just Wilbur, Lies, Little Brother Technoblade, ME - Freeform, Manipulation, Me? Never, Non-Human Dream, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Or edited really, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Past Child Abuse, Phil is Not Tommy's Dad, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade, Probably just a mess of unfinished works., Redstone Mechanic, Swords, Technoblade Centric, Technoblade angst, Totem after effects, Totems, Uh yay, Unfinished, Violence, Wilbur is Phil's only biological Child, Wither Scars., after effects, and I'm not even complaining anymore, and oh boy did I have Fun, blood gore, c!Dream, executions, fight me, injuries, man it just happens every tome, mentions of child abuse, mostly just angst, that much time around Withers needs after effects Damnit, this is hell, uh, uh. - Freeform, welcome to hell - Freeform, which doesn't make sense, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Fast/pseuds/Living_Fast
Summary: The excitement in his chest was implausible, and he liked it that way. Leaning forwards on his toes to grin at Wilbur and Tommy. To lead the tiny revolution to his bunker, to show what he’s been doing for ages, to show what he’s been up to. He grins big and wide, there was something close to pride in his chest when Wilbur righted his crown.They were proud of what he’s done, excited.“We have the Blade!” And Techno ducks his head down just enough to finish hiding the edges of his smile.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Honestly I don't fuckin' know, Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude & Phil Watson, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 43
Kudos: 285





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is not finished, or remotely close to being done. I just needed something to fill the void of Techno Centric Fics. y'all really do be slackin'. 
> 
> I mean to be fair, he hasn't uploaded or streamed literally anything in WEeks.So you all are slightly forgiven. I've had this idea for a while, if none of you can tell I really like writing Young/Teen/Child/Toddler Techno. It's just something that leaves me with a shit ton of creative freedom, so... 
> 
> I've been really distracted Messing around with the Create Mod, which is actually fun as hell. It's consumed my waking hours, so that's why I've literally written nothing the past few days. 
> 
> IMPORTANT:  
> This is the characters only. And from now on. the "Video Blogging RFP" Will no longer be tagged in anything I write for the Dream SMP, which is the Tag I'm replacing it with. It is in fact not Real People Fiction, but rather Characters. So, that's how that's working for me from now on.  
> Please don't make anything shippy unless I make it shippy. It's weird, and I do not like it at all. That being said, if you ever see me writing a ship. It's because it's an established relationship in the DSMP already. 
> 
> Cool? Cool? 
> 
> Have this piece of shit writing I wrote while I didn't have power for a week, so I wrote it on the Notes App on my laptop.  
> All mistakes are my own. And if you point something out, I probably won't change it lets be honest here.
> 
> HI yes I totally posted this with a summary, nobody saw shit.

It was weird, wandering from place to place. To understand that no one looks at him and thinks  _ Teen,  _ they look at him, and he’s an adult. They look at him and he’s anything but what they think he is. 

He bites his lip and shakes out his hands- watching the timer count down as slow as it always does. It does not matter how they perceive him, how old they think he- who they think he is. The timer drops and he slides into the generator to gather coins. Bouncing on his toes, watching his teammate out of the corner of his eye. 

Nothing matters anymore, as long as they let him do as he wants. 

He gathers wool and spreads the mess over the bed- before pillaring up. He glances around before jumping the rest of the way to the diamond generator, gathering the 4 that had already spawned. Swinging his sword through the approaching person’s gut, kicking their legs and jerking the blade free. 

Wide fearful eyes greet them, and the game’s inventory fills with the dead player’s coins. He smiles mutely, and gathers a few more Diamonds up, and continues across the islands. 

The bed crumbles between his fingers, and he turns. The last member of the team takes one look at him before stumbling off into the void with a misplaced step. 

His body jerks sharply, a floating void of space- for just a few seconds, as the game rearranges the landing platform, and his feet land softly against stone floors. He twitches, and his body is light with its sudden lack of armor. 

He brushes his hair out of his face and sits down on his podium. Waiting for the lobby to reset, and he stares down at the masses below. He recognizes his teammate among the dead players, dark eyes stare up at him in awe.  And he wishes it was always just games.

\---

He stands at the entrance of what will be known as PogTopia, and watches- Wilbur’s glaring at him, a low hum of energy under his skin, and there’s not much he actually knows about these two. Only that they know Phil, and he likes Phil. Phil’s nice. 

He watches Tommy leap to defend him, and he’s too busy watching the Dog- he wants to run his fingers between its ears. He twitches as they shout at him, and he levels a glare at Wilbur. “Stop looking at the Fucking Dog!” He clenches his fist, and curls his hands around the edge of the Axe Tommy pressed into his hands. 

The nervous laugh the blond lets out sets him on fire, and the following words are muddy to his ears.  _ Chat’s  _ a dull lul as they always are behind his eyes. “Can I trust you Blade?” 

And Techno lifts his chin and messes with his boar skull. “Down with the government my Friend.”

He wonders if Wilbur would see him any different if he knew. 

\--- 

There are off comments, ones he never takes to heart. They never bother him, and he smiles carefully at Wilbur. Who tells him how long he’s been farming like he hasn’t been counting the hour’s sense he could feel Dream breathing down his neck. The admin overbearing here, and it makes him itch. 

He hides his grin at the way the other absently fixes his crown once or twice. There’s no harm in it, and he giggles secretly as he makes rails after Wilbur falls. 

“Did you make these just so I wouldn’t fall again?” Techno peaks out from the doorway to his farm, and he knows the other cannot see his smile, and he’s partly grateful for it. “Child proofed it.” 

Wilbur’s splutter makes him laugh a little, and Tubbo’s responding laugh is just as rewarding. The other takes a minute, and for a second Techno wonders if he can tell. “I’m  _ Older  _ Than all of you!” And there’s almost joy, almost joy; but there is fear in being what he is. “Elder proofed it then.” 

The conversation leaks away, and things fall apart. Tommy arrives. Techno wonders sluggishly from place to place. And by the 3 days of his time in Dream’s lands, he curls up on a spare bed; and sleeps for almost 18 hours. 

\---

The days here sink into his brain and vanish between his fingers. It’s like the names of each person he’s ever played games against, of every life he’s stolen. He swallows and stares at Wilbur’s less than there expression. He’s starting to not like that analogy. Tommy’s not here now, and he’s never here anymore. 

He scratches slightly at his wrist and smiles thinly at the other. 

_ Loud, why is he yelling?  _

_ Did we mess up?  _

_ I don’t remember messing up?  _

_ We always mess up.  _

_ Hush, we did fine.  _

_ We did good  _

_ Blood? _

__

_ N̵̖̽̓͆ǒ̷̪̙͚̈́ț̴̡́̚ ̶̳̹̏̈́ÿ̷̛̱̰̩̹̄̍̓e̴̗̮̯͔̠̋̍͊t̴̡͓̐͝ _

\---

Techno stands in the middle of enemy territory and he craves someone to have his back, after listening to Wilbur and Tommy for 20 minutes he’s long realized he is on his own with this one. He always will be. He claws his fingers into the meat of his wrist and ignores the way Fundy seems hell-bent on getting his name scratched off his mental hit list. 

He wanders along with the Crowds, fights with the urge to cling to Niki- who has been nothing but kind to him. He steadies himself and fidgets with his sword, as Schlatt talks, and the air turns stiff, he listens half to watch Tubbo starts in on. 

He glances up at Wilbur and Tommy, and he glances back before someone notices his shifted gaze. He’s partly proud of Tubbo, watching the kid standing there, doing something so far away from what others thought they could have. 

It’s ruined by a throaty chuckle and Techno’s lack of Self-control.

_ Blood!  _

_ Blood for the Blood God!  _

_ Down with the Government  _

_ JFK, Kill HIM  _

_ JFK  _

_ Blood  _

_ I thought we liked Tubbo?  _

_ No!  _

_ Blood For the Blood God!  _

_ Kill them All!  _

His fingers ache when he’s finished, and gunpowder stains his hands. His fingers are bloody, and he stares at Tubbo's scared face. Tommy’s screaming at him, and  _ Chat  _ is screaming at Tommy for him, no matter the fact that they can’t hear them. He stands there fighting the urge to claw his eyes out, as Wilbur chatters on about the pit. 

Techno doesn’t mean to hurt him, and he sits in a pool of his own blood long after Niki’s dragged him off a screaming Tommy. His fists ache, and where Tommy smashed his fist into the boar skull leave deep bruises across his cheekbones. 

They wanted this, and he cannot stop thinking about how her brown eyes were ablaze as she shouted at him.  _ “You are an Adult! Act like one!”  _

He sits there long after the caves went cold and torches are blown out. 

Wasn’t this supposed to be a game? 

\---

He spends hours in a fortress, days maybe- tucked with his back to the wall, waiting- watching for when a skeleton rounds the corner. When he leaves his palms are stained from caring the Skulls, and his face aches. 

Techno stares at his reflection in the tiny mirror of his bathroom, and he shoves the boar skull back on his face. And Finds himself a set of gloves. 

\---

The excitement in his chest was implausible, and he liked it that way. Leaning forwards on his toes to grin at Wilbur and Tommy. To lead the tiny revolution to his bunker, to show what he’s been doing for ages, to show what he’s been up to. He grins big and wide, there was something close to pride in his chest when Wilbur righted his crown. 

They were proud of what he’s done, excited. 

“We have the Blade!” And Techno ducks his head down just enough to finish hiding the edges of his smile. 

\---

The withers effects egg on his mind, and the feeling of the skulls on his hands are heavy. 

_ Withers!  _

_ Blow it!  _

_ Traitors!  _

_ Let them Burn! _

_ Skulls for the Skull Throne!  _

_ Blood for the Blood God _

_ Blood For the Blood God  _

_ Blood for the Blood God _

The voices screaming, and the explosions rocking underfoot- he cannot explain all that was happening, only that this was. 

_ No matter if they won or not.  _ The country was born to die at the hands of the man who created it. He stands and watches as Wilbur smiles- as his arms stretched wide. And Techno’s seen kings fall before. He's seen castles crash to the ground, he's seen madmen become dead men. Techno watches, he watches. 

There's something bitter on his tongue, as he stares at the sword curling out of his back- his fingers twitch. 

Wither Skulls fit into his palms like they were made to be there. If you asked anyone, they'd tell you he almost dropped one, the size almost too big for his small hands. 

“You wanna be a hero Tommy? Then die like one.” 

\---

There’s nothing left for him here, standing next to the crater; and he wants to go back to the start of the day. Just wants to remember what it’s like to really play games because the tears that stain his cheeks feel too real, and the ache in his ribs every time he turns burns too much to not just go away. 

He fixes the skull on his face and smiles sharply- even when none of them can see it and threatens to kill them all. 

_ Down with the Government.  _

He watches as Phil, Phil whose covered in his own Son’s blood, A bow dangling from his hand. Techno turns away, for nothing in the world seems to even like him. 

He gathers his things, and he loads a saddlebag on Carl, and he leaves. 

He’s learned he likes the cold far more. 

\---

Phil comes to find him, eventually. When the support beams for his house are up, and the cold bites against his skin, the air thick, and the snow heavy. The Green cloak and bucket hat watch him from afar. 

_ Phil!  _

_ Philza _

_ He comes home _

_ Dad!  _

_ Pack, Pack! Dadza!  _

Techno scoops his skull from where he left it in the snow, and shakes it off before clasping the straps behind his head. The blond’s smile is bright when he gets closer, something in him relaxes at a face that doesn’t have other motives. At least he doesn’t think so. 

He kicks at the snow, and it puffs up enough that it covers the front of Phil’s clothes. The blond splutters. “You made me walk this far, and then my greeting is getting snow kicked all over me?” His tone is playful, and Techno grins up at him. Snow gets kicked all over him. Phil’s laughter is soothing in its own ways, and he knocks on the side of his skull- the bone digging into his still bruised cheeks.

Hands grab his wrist, and he stills- blinking sluggishly. “So this is the new residency? Missing the snow mate?” Techno gives a sharp nod, and the end of his 3-day old ponytail gets pulled slightly. He waves at the base of the house, and Carl curled up under a cover he built a week or so back. His fingers twitch, and  _ Chat  _ mumbles around about Phil, they haven’t stopped yet and he doesn’t really expect them to. 

“It’s quiet out here.” Phil gives a snort and taps against the side of his head. “What some help?” Techno wants to cry, no one asked that in ages. He stares silently at his friend and resists the urge to slam into the other’s chest. Seek comfort. 

_ Chat  _ coo’s

Techno swallows and lifts the edges of the boar skull just enough the Phil can see his lips. “Of course.” 

\---

Phil will admit he shouldn’t be here, helping The pink-haired man lug logs and sand, and gravel around. He’s looser here than he was standing with a ripped-up cloak, and a feral swing in his steps. Now he kicks snow and stifles giggles that He thinks Phil cannot hear. 

He turns to Phil and lifts that damned skull up enough to expose sharp tusks and lip piercings. There’s always a bright smile etched across his lips, shadowed by fading bruises low on his cheeks. Techno never looks for guidance, he notes, not like Tubbo, or Tommy, or Wilbur did. Hell, even Fundy looks at him and always asks questions. 

Techno just looks at him and smiles. 

There’s always something about the other. He shakes his wings and stretches his arms above his head. The house was finished, and the fire crackled. He turned to where his Friend was curled up under a mound of blankets. Something that leaves him both untouchable and just within reach. 

He brushes blond strands of hair out of his face and wiggles his cold fingers. He lays another log on the fire and pushes ash around for a little. Before he’s gathering eggs out of a chest and cracking them on a pan. 

They hadn’t gotten around to furnishing the place yet.  _ It’s not my home.  _ A heavy snowstorm had blown in just after the last of the roof was put together, and they gathered as many logs they could get and held up inside. He taps Techno’s still sleeping form with his foot and curls his toes. The Piglin Hybrid twitched and curled harder into a ball. 

Phil laughed softly. “Come on Techno. We’ve got things to do.” The growl that greeted his words, rattle in his own head. And his fingers felt sticky. He rumbles low in his throat, and Techno grows quiet, the sound of shifting blankets. And a hand emerges, along with part of a face. 

He turns sharply around to give his friend privacy to put his boar skull back on and gently pushes the bowl of eggs and strips of beef towards the other. A muffled thank you, and the scrapping of iron on wood. He turns around, and he blinks. 

Techno’s skull is still sitting on the table where it always is if he’s not wearing it. There’s a pair of blue eyes in place of red-tinted lenses. Phil’s wings tense, and he tries to look anywhere other than the Piglin hybrid. “It’s okay.” 

The voice is soft, and Phil turns back to look at him. Mind ablaze with dark blue eyes blinking up at him. He swallows and anxiety pools in his stomach. “I wouldn’t left it off if it wasn’t okay.” He notices then that Techno’s fingers are shaking, a white knuckle grip on his spoon. 

And Phil feels like a piece of shit. 

His wings relax on their own accord, he gives his friend's face a long look for the first time. There’s a set of scars that trace his jaw and the tiniest amount of facial hair. His cheeks would be softer, to match his slightly upturned nose, Phil’s mind suddenly supplies him- if not for the marks of a wither skeleton’s magic stretched over the bridge of his nose, and scrapping the left side of his face. 

There’s an urge to reach out and grab his face. To fix, to fix, to fix. And he swallows. The anxiety in his stomach is rolling hard, forming a stone of anger. Filling his mind, and making his wings shake. 

Techno ducks his head, and Phil reaches out carefully. He sets two fingers under the other chin. Lifting his face, blue eyes stare up at him a little round, and full of enough fear that it burns under Phil’s skin. “Of all the color’s I didn’t think they’d be blue…” 

His lips lift into a smile that Phil’s oh so used to being half-hidden. It’s something of beauty to see all of it. 

He ruffles Techno’s hair, and listens to the loud snort of protest. Hands batting his own away. “Stop!” There’s something different in seeing his friends' emotions displayed across his face. He looks young, like Tommy does when he grins. 

The Dragon huffs, and preens  _ Hatchling.  _

Phil ignores it. 

\--- 

A dark look in blue eyes, and a compass press into his palm. A new emerald earring dangling from his ear. 

_ For you, the world.  _

Phil knows he means it. 

\---

Phil goes back to L’manburg, and Techno giggles in excitement. He openly talks to  _ Chat,  _ he mumbles away at Carl and wishes he had a dog. He befriends villagers and helps heal a few. He busies himself with making a farm and wanders into the nether when  _ Chat  _ gets just a little too loud. There’s a new set of withering on his chest, and some of it reaches up to his elbows. He scratches at the spots until they bleed. 

He messages Phil and ignores the few floods of information that  _ Chat  _ brings. He doesn’t want to know what’s going on beyond these snowy mountains. He likes the peace, he likes the way  _ Chat  _ is calmer, the way they poke and talk. Instead of scream and chant. 

Techno pulls his hair up and kicks out his legs waiting on Phil. 

The day drags on, and he knows Phil’s not late. He’s rather a punctual person, if not someone to arrive a little early. He scratches at the back of his hands, and reaches up and scrubs at his nose. 

His communicator buzzes, and he fumbles with it, before clicking it open and staring at the set of messages. 

_ Philza:  _ I’m so sorry, I’ll be there within the hour. Promise 

_ Philza: Tubbo wanted my help, I won’t be much longer.  _

Techno chews on his lip and taps a tiny pattern on the screen. A mess of letters appearing. Worry leaks out of him, something vile rolls in his head, and down his fingers. 

_ Technoblade: I think it’s going to snow. So if Tubbo still needs your help, we can go another time. It’s Fine.  _

He stands and stares up at the completely clear sky, and there’s something pooling in his stomach. It burns in his brain, and  _ Chat  _ Stumbles over themselves to Scream  _ Replacement,  _ he shoves open the door to his cabin with more aggression than needed and cracks his knuckles. 

The communicator buzzes again, and he drops it on the table with probably a little too much aggression. He hears the screen crack and climbs up the ladder into his room. He shucks off his boots, he dropped them elsewhere and taps his left hoof on the floor three times before curling into his unmade bed. 

\---

He half glided over two spikes of basalt, the netherrack making a noise that made his skin crawl when he landed on it, the portal standing out in the open. The welcoming purples, he slowed to a walk, pulling his wings close to his back, stepping into the rather cold shimmer of magic. 

Wishing a goodbye to the almost unbearable heat of the nether, and stepped into the tundra. He braced himself for the whip of snowstorm winds. There was only silence, and his heart dipped into his toes.  _ Good going, Phil.  _

Digging a pearl out of his pocket and starting back in his sprint,  _ Fucking stupid.  _

Techno’s cabin comes into view, and Phil’s body aches. He climbs the steps twice as fast, kicking the snow off his boots at the top steps. The door is unlocked, it’s always unlocked. Who’s going to come here? It creaks when it opens, and his fingers are numb despite his gloves. 

He scans the room for Techno, and he lets out a tiny sigh at the sight of the other communicator sitting on the table. He picks it up, flips it over, the screens cracked; spider webs spread from one side to the other. It’s still open on Phil’s message tab. He sets it back down. 

Pulling off his gloves, and he climbs up the ladder. Techno’s form is curled up on his bed, half the blankets kicked off into the floor, and Phil aches. His wings drag the ground, and he crosses the room, almost tripping on a boot. 

Dark blue eyes dart towards his face, and there’s a blade tucked under his chin before he can breathe. The piglins face is a mess, his face is scared more- and the wither marks have extended. Phil swallows and reaches up carefully. “Hey mate.” 

Those impossibly blue eyes blink at him a few times before the dagger is retracted. He watches the other fidget and reaches out a hand. “Sorry, I’m late.” Techno doesn’t take his hand, the other stands, several inches shorter than he normally is. Phil feels horrible. His wings twitching and smacking into the floor a few times. 

Techno pulls his boots back on in silence, and Phil scoops up the coat, and gloves on the desk chair a few feet away. He hands them to the now taller hybrid and slides down the ladder. 

\---

The boat ride is quiet for half the time, and Phil feels sick for ruining what had become the steady chatter of the past few days about turtles. The excitement could have been heard through the short messages. 

He rowed farther offshore, Techno’s eyes sweeping back to stare at him, and Phil smiled slyly at him. An idea in his head. The sun was slowly finishing off its dip in the sky. And the darker depths of the ocean slowly became brighter. 

Techno gasped, and the boy almost physically brightened. His eyes spinning pink for a few seconds, and Phil watched as GlowSquids came out of hiding. Swimming around and through other fish, a few regular squids hanging out. He smiles gently at the childish awe on Techno’s face. 

“Never seen a glow squid before?” Techno’s head shake is rapid, and Phil feels pride in his chest. “Spend a lot of time playin’ games, don’t see the ocean a lot.” Most of their cold gear is dumped in the bottom of the boat, but Techno’s gloves are still on his hands. 

Even with the way he was reaching for the water. 

Phil set the oars down and dipped a hand in the water. Instantly a tiny squid bumping against his fingers. He grins at the brightly lit look on the other hybrids' face. The other pulling off his gloves and stuck his hand in the water. 

But that wasn’t what dragged Phil’s attention down to his hands- scars that had previously arched over just his fingers. Painted his palms; dragged thick lines over his wrists. He swallowed, tracing the dark skeletal blacks as they vanished under his shirt sleeve. 

Techno giggled. 

A few squids bobbed around the boat, and a dolphin swam under them. 

Techno’s grin was infectious. 

He kept glancing up at Phil, like this was something precious and he wanted the other to see. 

It reminds Phil that the other grew up in the nether. 

They sit there for a long, long time. Techno having dissolved into soft giggles, hidden in his shirt collar. He’s reminded of Wilbur, of the other’s pure excitement at the sight of new things. Of anything. 

He was reminded of Tommy shining with joy every time Tubbo walked into a room. 

Techno grew quiet, his giggles peeling off, and Phil glanced at him. The other's face was blank, and his eyes were glued on the waters below. “Phil,” his voice was soft, a wobble to it. “I, I gotta tell you something.” 

“Yeah?” 

Blue eyes don’t look at him, and Phil watches the other. “What… what if I told you I heard voices?” pink shining eyes peer at him from under pink curls. “That, that my waking days are filled with voices that demand the blood of everything I see?” 

Phil swallows and stares at him for a long moment. His wings twitch, and he reaches forwards. He doesn’t expect Techno to flinch backward. Eyes a tiny bit fearful. “I’d tell you that, that’s okay. Even if it does sound a little concerning.” Techno’s lips tilt upwards, just a tiny bit. The other fidgets. 

“They, they like you. Get all quiet and stuf’ when you come around. Chatter  _ Dad,  _ and uh-” the piglin hybrid’s voice is quiet, and Phil’s mind is sloppy on the uptake. “I call them  _ Chat,  _ because- because, you kno’ they chatter.” He looks so young, and Phil can’t help the rumble that pulls out of his throat. 

Techno doesn’t give a responding grumble and it almost hurts. His body feels sluggish, the amount of information is small. But so,  _ so  _ loud. 

Phil clears his throat and grabs an oar in one hand. “I’m glad they like me, Kiddo.” And the term slides off his tongue before he can stop it. Techno’s grown man,  _ He’s not a kid. _

But there are wide eyes staring at him, and his heart really drops. Slides out his toes, and spills into the ocean below.  _ No.  _

_ Hatchling,  _ his mind hisses.  _ Small, baby. Pup, Pup, Pup.  _

He sets the oars back down and slides to his knees on top of their things. Rocking the boat, and he grabs Techno’s hands in his own. They dwarf them, so tiny, and just a little pink. He ignores the rough wither scars texture, ignores the implications of them. And stares up at Techno’s wide eyes. 

“How  _ old are you?  _ Techno-”

The Piglin cuts him off with such a small mumble it doesn’t reach his ears. “Louder  _ Pup.”  _ And he notes that there are tears in the other's eyes, “I- I think I turned 16 a month ago? Hypixel time is wei- weird.” Phil stares at him, and something in him breaks just a little bit. 

“Oh Pup.” 

There’s a wet sob, and Phil’s wings flare. Pulling Techno down, rocking the boat. And Pressing the kid to his chest. Did anyone even know? Did Wilbur Know? He runs his fingers through the other's hair softly, and Techno grabs at the back of his shirt tightly. 

He promises himself, that  _ This kid wasn't _ going to be alone anymore. He clung to the other tighter.  _ Not if he could help it.  _

_ \--- _

The thing about Piglin’s is that they hoard their young almost as much as they Hoard gold. 

Piglin Pups. Are held close to the Hoard- pack, for almost the first 20 years of their life. Piglin's litters are small and most don't survive. 

They are babied, as much as they are shoved around.

It's clear that Techno’s never going to be as sane as he should. It shows in each of his movements that he’s still just a baby, learning, poking, prodding. 

Snappish teeth, he’s a juvenile Piglin testing his limits with every person he meets. 

So Phil stared at Techno, who’s raised half on the Nether by a hoard of Piglins his birth mother dropped him with. He stares at a boy he knows was pulled from his home for a life of glory and blood. 

For a boy who’s been without a pack for more of a life than he has. He’s not surprised that Techno’s turned as Violent, and Sharp as he is. It’s not hard to look at Techno and understand that no one really showed him where he needs to be. 

_ - _

There was no real shift in their relationship, and Techno feels something deep in him relax. Phil knew, but he didn’t change how he treated him. Or at least in some sense, if Techno was being pushy and sarcastic, the Dragon hybrid would smack him with a wing. 

Techno got used to baring his teeth, growling like a pup and some actually see it as the act of unease, the show of discomfort it was instead of a threat. He got used to someone actually paying attention. 

He licked his tusk, and pressed himself closer to Phil’s side, and fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. The Dragon’s rumble rattling in his ears, under his arm- and he blinked sluggishly. 

\---

Phil left again, he always does- and Techno stands in the empty space of his house that smells more like Dragon than piglin. He scrubs at his face and runs his fingers over the edge of the cracks painting the screen of his communicator. 

He wiggles his arms out and sets the tiny box on the table. Slinging his coat over his shoulder, and craving the way the cold chill of outside hits his face. Carl nips at his cloak, and he rubs the horse's nose affectionately. 

Fingers dragging over his face, and pressing his forehead against the others. Carl gave a huff, before pushing at his face. Before the chestnut horse rose to his full height, blinking large brown eyes down at him. 

Techno laughed softly and gave him one more scratch. Standing up on the toes of his boots. 

He brushed around with his bees for a bit, watching them move around the flowers behind the glass, dragging a hand through his hair. 

Pulling on one of his lip rings and heading over to check on the turtles.

He flinched at the onslaught of noise but smiled carefully nonetheless. Scrubbing at the back of his gloved hands. “We naming another one today?” 

_ Chat  _ grumbled, and then started spitting names Excitedly. Some didn’t even make sense. 

Techno tapped carefully on the top of one shell and helped one to flip back over off its back. 

He dropped some seagrass, and ran his fingers over the edge of one's shell, feeling over the lines and patterns. 

“I say-“ 

_ Chat  _ Shrieked, suddenly growing in numbers- scrambling over each other, and Techno flinched- clamping his hands over his ears without a second thought. Puffing air sharping through his nose, and attempting to regulate his breathing. 

His peace shattered in seconds,  _ Chat  _ was angry, he stumbled to his feet. 

_ How Dare he!  _

_ Best Friends, Liars, all of them!  _

_ Kill him, kill him, kill him.  _

_ Blood _

_ Kill them _

_ Fake God _

_ Green Boy liar, liar.  _

_ Ours- ours to harm, ours to protect.  _

_ Death  _

_ Blood for the Blood God _

_ Blood for the Blood God  _

_ Blood for the Blood God  _

The wind was suddenly biting, and his ears twitching under his palms. “Please be quiet, please, please.” The cold was no longer friend, and the peaceful silence of being out here alone shattered. 

“Please- Just, calm down, please shut up.” 

He stumbled and crashed into a snowbank- hands clamped over his ears still, and tears freezing to his face. Techno bit into his bottom lip, and pulled his knees close to his chest. 

_ Blood for the Blood God  _

_ No favors here _

_ Thief  _

_ Killer,  _

_ Liar _

_ Not safe.  _

_ Kill him _

_ Blood For the Blood God  _

Techno sat in the snow for a long time, before  _ Chat  _ died down long enough for him to breathe normally. The gate to the turtle farm was open, still a few were sliding across the snow, and panic gripped at his throat. 

He stood shakily and stumbled past. The location of his communicator burned into his mind and the need for any type of comfort. He hiccuped, pushed open his door roughly. Effectively startling Edward, the Enderman Warping softly at him. 

The buzzing of the tiny box rattled in his ears and he reached for it. Phil’s name stared up at him. 

Philza: Tommy just got exiled 

Philza: I know you don’t want to know much outside of the mountains because you want to feel safe. 

Philza: but Tommy just got Exiled, and I’m asking you to go check on him. 

Philza: Techno, please. 

Techno swallowed and blinked tears out of his eyes. 

Technoblade: cords?

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and he ran his fingers over the too-smooth edge of the Communicator. 

Philza: it’s not far from you

He stared at the cords and sucked in a deep breath. Sticking the mechanism in his pocket, scooping his skull up from where he left it days ago and mumbled out a goodbye to Edward before stepping out into the snow. 

_ Chat  _ was loud against his ears. Pushing tightly against the thump of his eardrum, and building pressure against his eyes. 

He knows deep down that leaving his safe place after having a  _ Chat  _ trigger an  _ attack  _ is the worst possible idea he’s had. But Phil asked, and Phil doesn’t ask much of him. 

\---

Tommy’s incredibly unhappy to see him. Ghostbur was the exact opposite, brushing around and pressing blue into his hands with a bright smile. 

Techno says as little as possible, swallowing down words; and trying to not bother the other. He won’t admit it aloud but he missed Tommy. He scratched at his wrists and held a torch as the other mined. 

“I’m not thanking you.” Tommy’s blue eyes are tired and angry. Techno feels bad for a lot of things he’s done. He shrugs and holds the torch higher. “Don’t hav’ to. Don’t want you to.” 

Those blue eyes regard him with distrust. 

He expects no different when Tommy turns on him, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. He snaps his teeth when the blond comes back, eyeing him warily, and Techno’s skin burns.  _ Chat  _ croons behind his ears, snappish, and excited when Tommy’s blood bathes the walls. 

It makes his hands shake, and for a few seconds- just a few he wants to go home. 

He swallows thickly instead and lets out a growl every time Tommy steps too close. The blond’s distrustful gaze is one of fear, and Techno licks his tusk. Watching rain trickle over the edge of the makeshift shack, Ghostbur remains oblivious to the anger and hate in the air. 

Techno sniffs and stares at the Ghost of a man who he thought was his friend. 

He leaves. 

Throwing a leg up over Carl’s back, and hooking his foot into the stirrup on the other side. Grabbing a handful of the large horse’s reins. He hardly glances at Tommy when he leaves, and kicks perhaps a bit too hard at the gentle horse’s sides as he turns him sharply around. 

_ Chat  _ snarls between his ears. 

\---

Phil hangs around a few more times, enough that the extra room downstairs becomes his, and it smells more like Dragon than anything else in his home. He’s treated like pup, and it’s nice. To rough house around his living room, to be shoved around, to shove back. 

He plays, and  _ Chat  _ quiets. 

Techno wonders if this had been the key to making them softer, quieter his entire life. He licks at one of his lip rings and collides with Phil’s side. Sending them into a pile of limbs in the snow, the thick layers of powder fluffing up around them. 

Wings flare around them, and there’s a growl, he responds with one of his own. Listening to the other chatter away for a minute. He shoves at Phil’s chest and nips at the other hand as it reaches over to bat at his face. A hand full of hair and Phil’s over him, his back against the cold snow, and he nips at the other. Kicking at his legs. 

The Dragon lets out a deep rumble and Techno grumbles, a noise that rattles in his chest- before biting down on a mouth full of sleeve. He thinks he nicks Phil’s arm as they flip back over, with the warning noise he receives. 

Techno snaps his jaw hard enough it hurts his teeth, and Phil’s batting at his face. Cupping his jaw and pushing him around. He growls and bites Phil’s wrist the next time it comes too close. Mind high on this stupid game of play. 

Instantly, Phil growls, low and deep at him. “Let go, mate.” 

His jaw tightens on its own accord, the Piglin baiting the other man. He wanted to see just where he stood. Pale blue eyes glared deeply at him, and lips peeled back. A growl thumped against the bottoms of his ribs, his heart hammered in his chest- smacking heavily against his ribcage- something sticky rested in his stomach, and stuck against his teeth. 

Phil growled again, deep and loud enough that Techno could feel it. Pale blues sparkling purple and settling on something close to magenta. Techno snarled, clamping his jaw shut, blood filled his mouth. And  _ Chat  _ was  _ Alive.  _

Scratching against his brain, and the sticky feeling intensified. Phil pressed a hand sharply to Techno’s forehead. 

_ Touch _

_ Dad angry?  _

_ Kill him, Kill him  _

_ Anarchy _

_ Chaos _

_ Trust No-  _

_ Blood For the Blood God  _

The piglin in him chirped, and he relaxed at the pressure against his head. Jaw still tight around the other’s wrist. The Dragon rumbled at him and leaned down. Close enough Techno could see the blue behind the purple. 

“ _ Let Go.”  _

His jaw relaxed without him thinking about it, and he tucked his head against his chest. Phil bumped his face carefully, and Techno grumbled- letting out the closest thing he could to an oink and pressed back against the other face. Phil chirped happily and laid down on top of him. 

Techno Dropped his arms and kicked lightly at the taller’s leg. Wiggling his hooves against the rough material of his boots. 

Phil rumbles calmed after a minute, and Techno licked at his tusk. “What the hell was that Mate?” The other's voice was foggy, he hardly noticed the Dragon standing up. He blinked up at him and gave him a slightly bloody grin. “I’m pup. You put yourself in charge.”

He watched with large eyes as Phil blinked a few times, before nodding slowly. He mouths something, before Techno’s stumbling onto his feet. His mind spins, and  _ Chat  _ babbles the word  _ Pup,  _ around like a toddler with a curse word. 

Flexing his fingers, and he bumps against the Dragon’s side. 

\---

Phil’s Dragon cooed happily.  _ Hatchling, ours, ours, mine.  _

He stared down at Techno’s face and ignored the stinging in his still bleeding wrist. He reaches out and holds out his uninjured hand. Techno bumps his head against it instantly. A trust in his movements Phil’s  _ Never seen before.  _ The way he relaxes as Phil grips carefully at his face. 

Everything softens. 

_ Protect. Keep safe. Hoard.  _

It’s like when Wilbur first stumbled into his life, and everything just slows down. He feels anchored, tethered to the land, that the ground under his feet is solid, and his wings feel light. He pulls Techno to his chest, and curls both arms around him. 

He curls his toes in his boots and nips at the pink curls escaping from the tight braid. Techno relaxes against his chest. 

Phil feels like he has a purpose again, holding the other.  _ Protect.  _

For you, the world. 

He holds Techno close, and suddenly, it rattles in his brain and thumps in time with his heart. It Sticks to his teeth, and curls down his cheeks. 

_ He’s already got it.  _

_ \--- _

It’s harder now that his brain has fully claimed Phil as Pack, for him to be alone. He’s not supposed to be alone, it’s not completely in his nature to be alone. He’s supposed to be with _Pack_ , he’s supposed to be able to Protect. And See, and Play. 

He snaps at his fingers and hisses lightly at  _ Chat.  _

Techno curls tighter around his pillow and Presses his fingers against his eyes. 

_ Danger  _

_ They are coming  _

_ Not Safe _

_ Blood  _

_ Phil _

Techno pressed his fingers against his face even harder, blinking tears out of his eyes the more his eyes ached. His communicator buzz’s, and his heart leaps. Rolling over to grab the tiny box. He runs his fingers over the cracks. 

Philza: I’m sorry 

He blinks and sits up sharply. 

Philza: They found the compass

Philza: I’m so sorry Pup. They are coming. 

Techno can’t help the way his hands shake, he slides off his bed and drops the communicator. He hardly flinches when he hears it finally shatter against the floor. He forgoes his boots, walking down his stairs numbly. 

_ Chat  _ was a steady thrum, angry, and ready to kill something. 

He hardly remembers brewing potions and more potions, he digs around, finds his crossbow where it's buried under loads of other junk. He scoops up his sword and smiles weakly at Ghostbur. 

The ghost was babbling on, and  _ Chat  _ was cooing at him. Techno swallowed and pressed a lead into the ghost's hands, and shooed him away. 

He reached down and grabbed his chest plate from where he buried his armor under the floorboards of his home. Wood pulled up, and the netherite shinned up at him. He swallowed and slid the piece over his head. Tightening the straps, and lifting arm guards

Each motion was familiar, and it stuck against his hands. He slid gloves over his hands and tightened the bands of glowing metal around his wrist. He tapped his hooves on the wood, and tied boots, and fastened the armor pieces into place. 

He rose, 

A Blood God 

A Man

A Warrior

He hefted his sword and licked his tusk. 

He caught sight of lights, images of torches and pitchforks flashing behind his eyes. Crowds demanding his head. 

He grabbed his cloak off the wall and slung it over his shoulders. Techno glared down at the skull staring lifelessly up at him, and with shaky hands lifted it up. Latching the lock into place behind his head. 

His Crown sliding forwards to rest on is, and a circle of Netherite gracing the bottom. 

He grabs the totem sitting on his fireplace mantel, and rolls the tiny statue of stolen life in his hands. He runs his fingers over the green eyes and feels them pulse like a beating heart under his thumb. Or maybe that’s his own. 

Techno steps out onto his porch. 

The monster he was made to be.

\--- 

Phil watches as they parade his Pup into L’manburg, watches the way Quackity rambles on about how Pigs don’t have rights. He watches from the tiny window of his downs stairs, and shrieks, high and loud. The Dragon in him crawling its way out of his throat. 

He yanked on the chain latching him to the floor and grabbed the nearest item, chunking it out his already broken window. 

_ Hateful people.  _

The iron pickaxe buries itself into the wood of the docks, and Phil lets out a growl of rage- wings flapping angrily. Fundy blinks at him, and any warmth he felt for his grandson sinks into the pits of the crater below him. He snarls, exposing teeth; and snaps. The fox flinches. 

_ Good.  _

Techno’s shoved into a cage, and there’s a tightness in his shoulders. It bothers Phil, deep in the pits of his mind, that he cannot see the other's face. That he cannot look at his Pup’s Dark eyes, and see what he’s thinking. 

He received no response from him this morning. And the Dragon was driving him mad. 

Phil smashed his foot into the metal nailing him down on the floor, and grunted, the iron chain giving way slightly. “Come on, Come on.” He flexed his wings, and half-listened to Tubbo announce the execution, in place of a trial. 

Anger built in his stomach, and he growled- deep enough it rattled his chest, his wrists ached. 

He turned at shouting, watching Punz drop TNT onto the stands, and laughed. He shoved his foot harder against the metal and watched the chain snap. 

He let out a scream the second he heard Tubbo shout at Quackity, and the lever was being pulled. Eyes shot to him as he clodied with his barricaded door. The shriek burned his throat, and he watched the anvil crush his Pup. 

Phil’s mind stopped abruptly, and everything held its breath. Quackity screamed out a loud shout of excitement, and Phil, Phil watched. 

Blood pooled on the floor, stained the wood, and spilled over the edges. Brain matter splattered everywhere, and there’s what he thinks is bone spread apart from the mess. 

His eyes flicker over and there’s Wilbur’s ghost standing impossibly still, hands curled around a sheep- mouth open mind sentence. There’s a flicker, there’s a man in a burned trench coat in his place for just a second. Face twisted in rage, and he’s dropping the sheep. 

And then he’s gone. 

Phil blinks through tears, and then there’s a shatter. The anvil is shifting, and a bloody face is poking out, and he watches as his Pup climbs on top of the anvil. A mad grin on his face, before he’s hopping over top of the iron bars with a bright giggle. 

The dragon roars to life, and Phil’s laughing hysterically. 

\---

Techno stares at Dream, and his mind is wossy, with A thumping headache behind his eyes. But he grins at the other and scoops the lead out of his hand. Rubbing at Carl’s face, and hefting the pickaxe in his grip. 

He turns to stare at Quackity as he enters. 

“How did you live. How!” Techno wipes blood off his face and snaps his teeth.  _ Chat  _ is vibrating with the prospect of blood, it made his skin itch, and his hands steadier than they’ve been in ages. 

He rolls the pick in his hand and steps forwards. “You think you could kill me Quackity? You think a measly little Anvil could kill me?” He tilts his head at the duck, watches as the other's face pales. 

“You don’t understand what’s going on here Techno.” 

And does he? 

Techno blinks big red eyes at the other, and kicks at the stone. “I’m trying to build a country here. And  _ you, you  _ are in the way.” There’s excitement in his chest, at the way they’ve circled each other, at the way Quackity stands in place of his exit. 

Stands between him and his horse. 

Him and his peaceful retirement home. 

“From my perspective  _ Duck,  _ It looks like you woke the sleeping giant. Hmm?” He swings the pick and watches with joy as the other steps back. “You built a country, but the Giant was nowhere to be seen. The monster under the bed was gone. Away. no one had seen him. But. But no, no, no, no  _ Peace-  _ Your hard-earned,  _ Peace  _ wasn’t  _ good  _ enough.” Quackity gripped his axe with two inexperienced hands. 

Techno’s seen newcomers to the pits of hell that was his single-digit years. 

He grins. 

“The monster had to be poked. Had to be killed. Despite the fact, the monster wanted to watch his bees and raise his turtles.” Techno felt rage and joy burn under his skin, roll in his fingers, and thump in time with his heart. Spurred by a life borrowed from a life stolen. “I will hunt you Quackity. To the end of the world.  _ Do you remember my lesson about humans and their prey?  _ I will hunt you down when you think you are the safest. And I will rip everything you love away from you.” 

The duck swallowed and straightened up. “I’m not letting you leave here alive you Fucking  _ Monster _ .” 

I didn’t want to be this way- his mind screams buried under layers of  _ Chat,  _ you did this to me. I just wanted to Enjoy it here- see my  _ friends.  _ I didn’t want to Hurt anyone. 

He snarls, and  _ Chat’s  _ a steady grounding thump in his mind. “Then let’s go.” 

Quackity lifted his axe, the diamond blade glinting as the torches catch the edge, and “You're dying here you piece of shit.” 

“I have a pickaxe Quackity,” He lifted the tool up to block the first swing, and he grins, “And I’ll put it through your teeth!” 

\---

Techno shivered, the wind whipping around; his hair matter and falling out of his loose braid. He blinked slowly, and sluggishly. 

He wanted to sleep. He wanted a bath. 

_ He wanted Phil.  _

He clung to his arms; and rubbed at his face. Techno shifted and tugged on Carl’s reins. The horse sprayed snow all over him as they walked, and Techno didn’t care. 

Hands shaking, his gloves were gone- and his hooves were freezing. The cabin crested over the ridge, and something in him relaxed. Techno stood there for a long time just watching the tiny home. He swallowed and scrubbed at his face. His blood and Quackity’s mixing, making his skin itch. 

The doors open, and Techno’s heart thumps into his mouth.  _ They came, they found us again.  _

There’s a fluff of blond hair, he sees the second that the other notices him. They freeze, Techno slides down the hill, yanking Carl forwards. Fear in his bones thick, anger in his stomach. He catches sight. 

_ Tommy,  _

_ Traitor _

_ Raccoon  _

_ Ass _

_ Kill him  _

_ Look at him, pathetic _

Tommy was frozen in his place against the doors, Techno stumbled to a stop, spraying snow against the other. Carl snorts and trots into the still open gate of his pin. The blond’s blue eyes held an unhealthy amount of fear, and Techno grumbled in the back of his throat. 

The teen flinched, hands gripping at worn-down armor, Techno swallowed, blinking.  _ Chat  _ had fallen just quiet enough at the sight of the other. Tommy lifted a shaking hand, “How do?” the laugh that bubbled up made his throat hurt, reached up to scrub at his face. 

A sob tearing at his lungs, and he placed his hand over his eyes, blinking away tears. 

“Great Theseus. Doin’ Great.” 

He waves at the door holds down a shiver. The blond seems to get the message and steps back into the house out of the way of the doors, Techno revels in the way they slam shut behind him. He reaches up and grabs at the air where his crown should be- his hands shake when he comes up empty. 

Techno puffs heavy air out of his nose and climbs the ladder. “Come on. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” 

\---

He cuts his hair to his shoulders and dumps half a bucket of semi-warm water over his head. Bloodstains his bathroom floors, he shakes his head, grabbing the edge of the skin as his vision spins. Grabbing for the bottle of shampoo, the liquid was cold and spilled over his fingers. 

Splattering in the mess of water and blood. Techno scratches it through his hair, hissing as his fingers clip the new scar hidden under his hair. He blinks, staring at himself in the mirror, he can't stop the way his fingers tighten around the faucet as he turns it on. Scrubbing at his face, blood sinking down into the drain. 

Sticking his head in the sink, and he’s partially mesmerized by the way soap and blood make pink swirls.  _ Chat  _ clamors, and claws over empty pieces of his brain. 

He licks his tusk and traces the wither scars marking his skin. He shakes his hair out again and snatches up an empty bottle of conditioner. It’s light, and he stares down at the glass. Fury rises in his soul. Anger makes him steady, he’s hardly registering the swing and the crash as the bottle shatters against the mirror. 

Techno startles at the loud noise and scrambles into his bathtub to get away from the mess of glass. A sob startling out of his throat, and suddenly he can’t stop. Hiccuping and curling his knees to his chest. He grabs at his hair, yanking on it; his hooves making loud taps on porcelain white. 

He kicks out at the side, his tail curling around his ankle tighter; his ears pressed tight against the sides of his head. 

_ He wants to go home.  _

\---

Techno ignores the look Tommy was giving him and starts warming the leftover stew Phil made. He felt small, inaciquent. “What’s with the black shit?” Tommy’s voice was quiet, but somehow just as large as life as it always had been. Techno glared at him. “Wither Scars.” 

“Oh.” 

Techno placed a bowl in front of the other and slid into what his brain recognizes as Phil’s chair. He resists the urge to curl his legs up, and spins the stew around in circles, as Tommy basically stuffs his face. 

The blond glanced up at him, and Techno’s stomach protested at the idea of putting food in his mouth. The other whips at their mouth with the back of their hand, he notices the way he keeps glancing at his own bowl. 

He swallows and pushes it towards Tommy, pulling his legs up into the chair, resting his face on his knees. There’s a tiny mumble of  _ Thank you,  _ and Techno hummed softly. He tugged on one of his curls. 

“What did you want to talk about.” 

Techno shrugs, and stares out the window. “You picked some interestin’ friends.” the blond spluttered and set down the bowl with a little too much force. “What the hell do you know about  _ My  _ friends.” He snorts at him and hugs his legs a bit tighter. “Didn’t think Tubbo had it in him either.” 

Tommy made a noise of frustration and shoved the chair backward- rising to his feet. “The fuck are you talking about?” 

He glares at the blond and rises shakily to his feet. Grabbing at his shirt, and peeling his lips back into a snarl. Blue eyes widen. “I get no one  _ Visited you,  _ but you cannot be blind to the fact that  _ Tubbo tried _ to kill me today. Especially if you’ve been livin’ in my house you, you, you,  _ Fuck.”  _

The blond flinches and drops his gaze. “I slept for most of the day- I, I’m sorry.” Techno glares at him and clenches his hands in fists at his sides. He points upstairs, his hands shake. “You can take my bed, stay out of Phil’s room.” 

He feels the other's eyes on him, and his body hurts in every way. He swings open the door to Phil’s room, slamming it behind him. His mind shakes, he slides down against the door. Tears in his eyes, and pulls his knees to his chest. 

His home feels invaded, and unsafe. Techno presses his hands against his eyes, and wants to be an adult, wants to be bigger than he is. Older than he is. He swallows and climbs to his feet. Phil’s bed is unmade as the other tends to leave it. 

He crawls into it, under the covers, and craves the feeling of safety that comes from the other. 

\--- 

Techno scrubbed at his face, and let the short strands of hair hide him from view. Tommy chattering on about something, the other holding tight to the hilt of Techno’s old sword. A grin on his face, swinging it around as he spun in circles. 

He kept out of the other's range, ears twitching, his tail curling tightly against his ankle. 

“What we doing today, Big man!” he blinked slowly at the other and wished for his boar skull. Shrugging, he turns to grab at his new pickaxe hanging on his belt. “Nothing?” Techno knows he has to figure out something to keep the other entertained, he gets that, but his head’s still foggy, and his communicator is still broken so it’s not like he can ask Phil for help with anything. 

He runs his fingers over the edge of his pickaxe’s blade and blinks. “I kinda want a dog.” He hates how soft his voice is, and he hates the way Tommy freezes up- sort of just staring at him. “Honestly thought you’d want to take down L’manburg.” The sword’s tip drags in the snow as the other walks towards him. Techno shrugs again, giving a tiny shake of his head. Pink curls flying around his face. 

“I’m tired, Tommy. Phil was supposed to help me find some Wolf dogs- you know, when-” 

“When Tubbo and Quackity came and killed you. Yeah, I get it. Oh, Oh, I can help you look! That’d be fun, plus, I think I saw some back towards wher-'' Tommy fumbles, and pauses completely. Suddenly standing completely still, not even swaying. Techno feels out of his depth. He steps closer to the taller boy, and stands at his shoulder. 

Blue eyes peer at him, and Techno bites his lip. “I think the village nearby might have a few roaming around.” It’s a tiny branch, one that keeps Tommy away from where he tried to kill himself- which Techno knows about. He wants to keep the other safe, he does, he does.  _ Chat  _ coos softly. 

_ Technoprotect  _

_ Protect the boy! _

_ Keep him safe  _

Tommy nods sharply, and Techno takes off in the direction of the village. 

\--- 

His fingers Twitch, he holds out the bone carefully- the wolf dog’s amber eyes watching him. She clamps her jaws around the bones and sits down at his feet. Pressing her head into his still stretched-out hand. 

He can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles out of his throat, scratching carefully at her chin. “Hullo there.” The bone clatters into the snow. 

She licks his fingers, and Techno can’t help the way he turns around to grin at Tommy who’s standing a few feet away. 

Something unreadable in his eyes. 

Techno turns his attention back to the WolfDog, her tail thumping heavily on the ground; he scratched at her ears and rose to his feet. She wiggled between his legs, and he stumbled slightly. He laughed at her.  He wished Phil was here. 

She trailed after him, as he headed back towards the village. Reclaimed bone gripped in her jaws. Techno grabbed at the wolf-dog's fluff, and she pressed softly against his legs. Tommy trailed after him, chattering on about something, Techno hummed softly in response watching the other out of the corner of his eye. 

The villagers blinked at him carefully, Techno offered emeralds, filling his bags with foods and a few enchanted books that sparked under his fingers. Tommy talked with a few other villagers, the blond boy seemed to be happy to just talk to anyone. The wolf-dog trotted at Techno’s heels, if not a little ways behind him. Her tail wagging, a few kids petting her as they passed by. 

Techno glanced up at the sky and shivered at the sight of dark clouds peering over the horizon. “Tommy,” the blond turned to stare at him, “let's head back.” he bites his tongue to hold down on adding  _ Home  _ to the end. Because it was his Home, not Tommy’s. 

He flexed his fingers, and Tommy gave a nod. “Let's go Home then.” 

Techno swallowed. 

\---

Phil glared at Tubbo, wings tense around his body. The dragon dragged at his mind, pulling his lips back slightly the more the child president stepped into his home. Tubbo stepped backward, blinking a few times. “Get out.” 

Tubbo shook his head carefully. “I have to fix-” 

He stuck his leg out and flared his wings, mouth snapping. “Get on with it then. And then get out.” The boy's hands shake, something deep in his soul rolls in it, it's sticky against his teeth. The pride in being feared. 

There’s a flash of towers, or a castle, of a Boy with pink hair. Of a man with graying brown hair. There’s levels of countries full of fear. 

Tubbo’s done quick enough. Backing away, shoving his hands in his pockets, the boy bumps into a wall. Phil snorts at him, before tucking his leg closer to his body.

Curling his wings around him. He gives the teen a long lazy blink. 

“I’ll- I’ll be by tomorrow.” Phil closes his eyes and sinks into his wings. 

\---

Techno’s mind spins at the sight of Dream, his heart hammers in time with  _ Chats  _ unsteady chant. The white smiley face makes his skin crawl, Techno thinks if he stared at it long enough the black would bleed away, leaving a white expanse. 

Void of any type of expression and it would still make his skin crawl. 

Dream knocks in his door, Techno swallows- pushing the lid on Tommy’s box, before mumbling out a sorry, latching it shut. 

He pushes open the door and glares up at the other. He would say Man- but it’s clear the admin was anything but  _ human.  _

Dream twists around to stare into his home without saying a word before the mask is peering back down at him. “Tommy’s gone.” 

Air lodged in his throat for the wrong reasons, Techno shoved it down. Panic crawling across his skin keeps his face blank. Raising an eyebrow. 

“And?” 

Dream laughs, a noise that’s supposed to sound bright and happy if anything it scratched at the back of his brain in all the wrong ways. “L’manburg thinks he’s dead. And I mean- I get why. But, me I know  _ better.”  _ He steps into Techno's house uninvited. 

He watched him, ears flicking; crossing his arms. Curling his fingers into his biceps in a need to hold on to something. “And you are here why?” 

The mask watches him, and then Dream shrugs. Techno licks his tusk, he makes everything feel unnatural. “You’re the only one nearby, plus-  _ big brother Technoblade.  _ Right?” 

He traces the way the mask looks down at  _ Em  _ who was sitting by Edward's boat which was surprisingly empty for once. 

“Just thought I’d look.” 

He slips into the basement, Techno stands at the ladder and watches him move- He glances back at the box, before sliding down after him. 

Techno flexed his fingers, there was hardly anything down here. Expect maybe Bob- the young cow curled up softly. Blinking large brown eyes at them. 

Dream laughed at the sight of her, Techno bit his top lip. 

Dream went through a few chests, rolling several items between his hands; generally just leaving his scent of things. Techno scrunched up his nose and ignored  _ Chat.  _

He watches the other closely, watches a tenseness in his shoulders; watches him grow more and more impatient. 

“I know he’s here Technoblade.” 

That mask is turned to him now, the bottom of his face exposed- a deep frown painting his lips. Techno Shakes his head. “Have you considered he might actually be Dead Dream?”

The  _ thing  _ inhabiting his house froze, there’s a few seconds; a hair's breath. Before the other comes back to life. Hands waving, his arms out. There’s something sharp, angry in his moves. 

Techno flexes his fingers, and shifts slightly on his hooves. “Of course I have! But this is  _ Tommy,  _ you really think he’s dead? Terribly sorry Techno, but he’s not.  _ I don’t want him Dead. _ I want him  _ safe.  _ We- we are friends. Yes! We just had a disagreement and I want to  _ apologize!”  _

He lifts his chin and bares his teeth slightly. “Where’s Ghostbur Dream?” 

The other stumbles slightly, before shaking himself off. “I don’t know,  _ he’s a ghost-  _ he does what he wants.” 

Techno thinks of the kid upstairs who shouted at him for never coming to his party. He thinks of a ghost half-melted because of snow, his fingers ache from how hard he’s clenching them. “Sure.” 

Dream sighs. And shakes his head. “Look if you see a Tommy, just- just tell him I’m looking for him alright?” 

He gives the other a sharp nod, and waves at the door. “Sure, sure- I don’t like uninvited guests.” The other snorts, walking in that direction anyway. He’s halfway gone before he pauses. 

“Before I forget.” 

He draws into his bag, and Techno fights to keep his face blank. His crown was offered to him, it was cracked- split into two. Several tiny gold chunks populated the area around it, as well as the red jewel that was normally framed by a green one and a pinkish one. The green one was gone, and the pink one was cracked. 

He reached out and took them. His hands were shaking, the tremble visible in each of his gloved fingers. 

When he looked up, Dream was gone. He glanced around. the ender pearl particles floated in the air, dipping down and painting the snow purple in some spots. 

He tightened his grip on the broken pieces of crown,  _ Stasis chamber.  _

There’s frustration in him as he lets the crown pieces clatter onto the table; unlatching the box. Staring into blue eyes blown wide with fear.

He blinks down at the other kid, and sticks his hand out; fingers are curling around his wrist. Tommy unfolding unnaturally as he stood. He stares up at him, ears pinning themselves to his head; his tail flicking unhappily from where he freed it. 

“We have work to do.” 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated. 
> 
> (Mostly comments, please, I like talking/Responding to all of you) 
> 
> I have plans for more of this, please do not ask me to write a second chapter- it kills my motivation, and I just cannot.  
> That being said, the second Chapter is half-written- I have no idea where to take a huge section of it, because of how much I changed. But I'll figure it out. 
> 
> Another thing, I have about 3 unfinished, and never-to-be-finished Fics in my Google Docs... would any of you be interested in reading those? They all are really messy, but I feel like they could have gone somewhere. I've been thinking about making an Unfinished Fics Book, but I'm not sure how it would actually do? So, up to y'all :/


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *enter Sam Stage Left* 
> 
> *enter Dream Stage Right* 
> 
> Uhhhhhh- So... I realized I've already given yall a shit 27k fic in basically one chapter, and why the hell should I do that again because it almost killed me.  
> So, now this is three parts, cause I'm not done. Not yet, I still have a usable plot. I still have angst, I still have all the time in the world to make this hurt no comfort.

Tommy doesn’t understand much of what goes on anymore. Everything feels distracted, scrapping at his brain. He catches himself glancing over his shoulder more than healthy. Every flash of a green that’s just too bright sets his body on edge. 

His stomach growls; he laughs into the empty space of Techno’s room. He rolls to the side and slides his legs off the edge of the bed. 

There’s a crinkle of glass, something hits his foot. Tommy yelps; the noise clawing out of his chest, he yanks his feet up onto the mattress. 

There’s glass on the section of the floor next to the nightstand, parts, red stone panels broken. 

He checks at his foot, mumbling in relief when it doesn’t seem cut all that bad. A tiny scrap, and nothing else. 

Curiosity gets the better of him, he reaches down; and grabs the box. 

Something unravels in his stomach at the sight of what's probably an _unfixable_ communicator. A pink texture to the edge, the flickering image of a Channel open to _Philza_ when he taps the completely shattered screens edge. 

It’s Techno’s. 

He realizes mutely, that he hasn’t seen Techno with a communicator in the past week and a half he’s been here. He steps carefully over the mess of glass. Holding the mechanism in his palm tightly. 

This would explain it. 

He slides down the ladder, shoving the thing in his pocket; and blinks at _Phil’s_ still closed door. He grinds his teeth together, cursing when his stomach growls again. 

Hungry, Always Hungry. 

He snags an Apple, running his fingers over the golden expanse. _Why does the other just leave these around?_ Before biting into it. As if summoned the door swings open. 

Carefully, and intense Pink eyes glare at him. The other basically stumbles into the kitchen, ignoring Tommy’s good-natured “Good Morning!” 

He always does. 

Tommy draws the communicator out of his pocket and grins. “Look what I found!” Techno’s eyes sweep around to stare at him, at the tiny broken box in his hands. 

He doesn’t expect for the Piglin’s face to pale, or for him to sort of just staring at it. Tommy hardly noticed that the other's eyes have simmered to a dark blue, or the way the other's hands are shaking suddenly. 

He sets the box on the table when it becomes obvious that the hybrid isn’t going to take it. And munches on another bite of the apple. 

Techno twists around without saying a single word, and yet. Tommy stares down at the golden fruit. He feels like he’s said everything.

\---

Techno slinks between buildings, careful about his steps; sure about the rocks padding the area. The wood of the Docks was creaky under his hooves. 

He purposely didn’t look at the execution stand and swallowed down a gag at the sight of his blood still staining the planks. Stepping up to Phil’s door, and pushing at the wood. It was splintered in some places- what Techno remembered being a soft dark finish was now scuffed. 

Something crept inside, Techno held his breath; hands twitching at his sides leaning forwards on his toes. The door creaked open, Phil’s pale blue eyes greeted him. 

The oink-like noise that escaped his lips was unintentional, eyes watching him widened and the door was pushed to a full 90. Hands reaching out and pulling him inside. 

“ _Tech.”_ The rumble was soft, careful- practiced, comforting. Techno clutched at the other's shirt, pressing his face into his chest. Arms curl around him, his feet leave the ground, Techno blinks tears out of his eyes, and hiccups. There’s a tiny coo in response. 

Wings flap carefully around them, Techno clings harder; there’s a rattle of what sounds like chains. 

Hands push softly at his shoulders, sliding away slightly; Techno grumbles at the distance and blinks up at Phil. The dragon's hands cupped his cheeks, twisting his face around softly. “You cut your hair.” 

There’s a hard stone in his stomach at the mention of it, he flexes his fingers; looking at the ground. “Not like I really had a choice in the matter.” The growl sets him on edge, even though he knows it’s not directed at him. 

Fingers trace his features, and Techno has to remind himself that Phil’s mannerisms are more dragon right now than human. With the way, his eyes reflect purple off every surface. With the way his head is dipped far enough down that small horns show through his blond fluff. 

Techno swallows. 

Hands trace the wither scars on his face, despite the leathery texture of them; hands drag through his hair in an attempt to find the scar left behind by the anvil. 

When Phil’s satisfied with his work, he pulls him back to his chest. A face buried in his hair, and wings curled around him. 

Techno lets out a soft Chuff, pressing his face into Phil's shoulder. After two weeks of Tommy, after his home feels unkempt, unsafe; he relaxes against Phil’s chest. Limbs lose, mind soft; he grabs sleepily at the back of the other's shirt. 

Phil clings to him, moving him around; he doesn’t care, his limbs numb- and his mind sloppy. _Pack, safe._

He hardly recognizes being softly pushed into bed- hands leave him, and he whines. Low in his throat, a soft careful rumble and a hand in his hair soothe his fried nerves. 

_Pack_ is so close, so close- he bats lightly at the air in an attempt to grab at Phil. A wing is softly set into his grip, he clings to it, fingers running over the texture. A dry sob rattling in his chest, Phil’s suddenly curled around him, wings resting over his stomach- Techno rolls over and latches onto the other. 

“I’m not going _anywhere_ pup.” His voice rattled in his ears, Techno shook his head. He couldn’t promise anything anymore. He just wanted to be _safe._ Hands curl through his hair, and his chest heaved with silent sobs, face messy and it ached. His head throbbed, his fingers never quite stopped shaking. 

The feeling of the anvil smashing his skull vibrated behind his eyes every time he blinked. 

Tommy was loud, and everything Techno never will get to be, Will never get to _have._ He won’t get to understand what it’s like to look up to someone. He won’t get to ever get the unwavering loyalty of a friend, because _Monsters_ aren’t capable of Loyalty. _Monsters don't_ deserve to be trusted. Techno curled his knees closer to his chest and blinked heavy tears out of his eyes. Hiccuping. 

He thought he understood. He _did,_ but everything here is different. It’s not games, and none of it’s any fun anymore. 

Phil’s fingers twisted curls softly, rumbling slowly in his chest. “ _I’m sorry.”_ his voice was foreign to his ears, rubbing against his throat in all the wrong ways, Scratchy- and thick. The words tasted like acid on his tongue and slimy on his teeth. 

He wasn’t taught to understand the meaning of an “I’m sorry” any more than he was to understand anything but _Anger._ He twisted his fingers and stared at the white weaved fabric of Phil’s shirt. 

He understood now, that the flicker in Tommy’s eyes was always going to be there, he grumbled in his chest. He understood now, that he _Wasn’t just the monster they thought he was._ He _was_ the monster. He understood that he wasn’t worth anything without a blade in his hands, a leash around his neck. 

He was the ultimate _Weapon_. 

~~Not Dream. Dream had people who loved _Him._ No matter how inhuman he was, no matter how cruel, and angry. Dream was incredibly loved- loved by people who feared him, loved by people who raised him. Dream was joy in hell's form. Dream was happiness in a puppet master's body, Dream was sick and twisted. But Dream was Admin here, Dream was far more important than Anything. ~~

But Techno, Techno had Phil. He only had Phil, his eyes burned. He didn’t even get to _keep_ Phil. 

He swallowed, clamping his eyes shut. The feeling of the anvil sliding through him breaking bones as it went rattled in his ribcage. Sloshed in his stomach, and bile rose in his throat. Hands scratched at his ear. 

_Chat_ was silent behind his eyes, a soft silence. A few offering the carefullest piece of comfort. He didn’t want their comfort, any more than he wanted their advice on the bloodiest way to kill someone. 

He pressed his hands against the scars marring his face. 

_I’m so sorry._

\--- 

Phil curls around _his_ boy, face tucked in wild pink curls and cries. Tears sliding down his cheeks, as a boy who never apologized for anything- _Anything._ Sobbed, apologizing for his existence, over and, over, and over. 

He pressed his cheek against his hair and wrapped the other tighter in his wings. _You cannot protect those who don’t want to be protected._ His mind snarled carefully at him, even while The Dragon purred in his stomach. 

He understood to some extent that Techno didn’t want to be saved. That the kid didn’t think he was worth saving, any more than he was worth alive. 

Phil swallowed and licked his lip. He spent the past 4 months watching a boy fight every _fucking_ day of his life, to feel some semblance of _Safety._ Phil stilled as Techno’s sobs peeled off, running his hand down the boy’s back. Feeling for each knot in his spine. For the steady thump of his heart under his palms. 

He spent months watching a boy put his life together with his own bare hands, with thick hiccupy smiles, with shy blue eyes, and a few hundred twisted jokes. 

He spent months putting up walls with a boy he didn’t know was a child, he spent months with a boy who confessed with tears in his eyes, that his actions are not always his own. He sat in a boat and tugged a tiny _Teen_ into his lap. 

Phil made promises he could not keep. 

Phil made promises to Wilbur as a baby he would never be able to finish giving him. 

He scrubbed Tears off his cheeks and stared at the chain latching him to the floor. He made promises to his firstborn son, his _only_ son, he promised him so many things. 

Phil clutches at Techno’s form, his tiny hands, his tail half curled out of his pants; his ears twitching slightly in his sleep. 

In his mind, he’s curled around Wilbur, who has tiny sharp teeth- Wilbur who’s giggling at the lowest volume a 6-year-old can. In his mind, he’s holding his son’s still warm corpse. Regret pulsing in his mind. 

There are so many things Phil ruined, so many things that happened- so many things that ruined every picture-perfect Father, and son. So many things said, so many things unsaid. 

He should have told Wilbur he loved him. Standing on that man-made cliff edge- he should have told his _son_ he loved him. 

Phil watches the moon settle in the sky for a long while, he blinks tears out of his eyes when his vision goes blurry. His hands shake, he blinks and Wilbur singing in the kitchen at 12 am at 13. Phil’s watching his son with a careful smile from the doorway. 

He presses his nose into Techno’s curls. 

_And Promises,_ for all the fucking Diamonds in the Worlds, that no one would hurt his Pup again. 

He broke it the first time, listening to the mad ravings of a child not just done growing. Of a Man standing in shoes just a little too big, perhaps a little too small. With his arms spread wide, ready to die for something unbelievably _broken._ Dying for something far beyond _fixing._ He failed with his son’s blood on his hands; his bow hanging between his fingers. Wither smoke hanging in the air, tanged with gunpowder. 

He broke it a second time, staring at Tommy’s tear-stained face; of a boy who was not his son. But rather the Bond driven Brother of his Son, he failed Tommy then, watching; the boy silent in ways not possible for him, as Dream drags him away. 

He broke it a third time, the scar marks under Techno’s hair, marks his face, his hands, his arms, his wrists. With a compass passed between ranting raving children, with dreams too big for ill-fitting jackets. Chains, and broken promises, a broken country standing on a burial ground. With unforgivable actions. With a boy hiding in a shadow of a monster created by cruel men, cowering behind in an attempt to secure safety he does not believe he deserves. 

Phil won’t fail a fourth. He won’t Break another _damned promise._

Not with _Tommy,_ and not with _Techno._

He _Won’t._ He refuses. 

\---

Techno blinked, sitting up carefully; glancing around. Phil’s wings dragged the ground, standing in his kitchen. _Chat_ mumbled softly, sliding his legs off his bed, recoiling when his hooves connected with the ground. Pale blue eyes glued on him, a smile painting his friend's lips. 

“Morning Mate,” Techno grumbled softly at him, crossing from the bed to curl into Phil’s outstretched hand. Fingers in his hair and an arm curled around his center. A wing curls around him, he almost trips over his Hooves when Phil moves; a tiny squeal escaping his lips. Phil blinks at him before laughing softly, letting him go. Even if Techno still clung to part of his wing. 

Tracing the texture under his fingers, watching as the other poured what looked like pancake batter on a skillet. Resting his weight against the other slightly, chuffing and bumping his head against Phil’s. The dragon hybrid laughed, bumping him back. 

A grin teased at Techno’s lips. 

\--- 

He glared, mouth screwed up, hands tight around the edge of his pickaxe. Green and red eyes blinked up at him, “I uh, Ghostbur wanted to come. And I- Phil asked me. To um-” Techno’s mind was alit. _Chat_ screaming, 

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Kill him_

_Death_

_Chaos- Blood for the Blood God_

_Skulls for the skull throne_

_Butcher_

_Killer, Monster_

_Kill him_

Techno growled, rattling in his throat Ghostbur’s happy chatter to Tommy sliding around in his head. “Ranboo!” Tommy pushed past him, before flinging his arms around the taller teen. The Enderman hybrid wvorped softly, a laugh escaping his lips. Techno paused, watching the two. “I missed you.” Ranboo curled around him carefully, the Enderboy’s tail curling around Tommy’s waist, face pressing into blond hair. 

He loosened his grip on the pickaxe, blinking, holding down a gag. And twisted around back into his home, the sound of his steps dragging on his spine. Wilbur’s ghost sat curled next to the fire, holding a rather small blue sheep. “Hello, Techno!” His lip twitched, ducking his head to hide his face behind the curtain of pink curls spread around his face. 

Pressing his hands against his eyes, tracing the scars on his cheeks. “Hullo, Ghostbur.” The ghost floated around him, abandoning the sheep, a hand full of blue. Held out carefully, Techno swallowed, before scooping it up. Running his fingers over the dyes. “See! Now you don’t have to look so sad. _Tommy’s_ here! Tommy makes everything better.” 

Techno swallowed, shoulders tensing, as he watched the two other boys stand curled around each other. “Sure Ghostbur.” The Ghost’s face was vacant, blinking large eyes at him, stained fingers fixing his beanie before they reached out. Ice cold, fixing his bangs. Pushing them out of his face. A smile lighting the ghost's lips. 

Hands sliding back, catching in tiny knots, Wilbur’s smile more genuine than Techno had seen in a long time. “Blue!” A delighted laugh bubbling out of his mouth, Techno swallowed; blood stained the other's tongue. 

White eyes blinked at him, expression falling; and hands going limp. 

“Why are you so sad?” 

He licked at his tusk, dragging his eyes to stare at the wall, biting his lip; trapping his lip piercing between his teeth. 

His hands trembled at his sides, twisting into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not sad Ghostbur.” Empty white eyes stared at him, hands reaching back up, cupping his face. Tears curled down the ghost's cheeks, “I don’t like it when you lie. Have some blue.” 

More dye was placed in his hand, spilling between his fingers, over scars he can’t fix, dripping down to stain his wood floor. He smiled uselessly at the ghost of a man he considered his friend. _“Thank you.”_ lodged in his throat. Tommy and Ranboo tumbled in through the door, almost matching grins painting their faces. 

He glared at Tommy. Mouth tightening, turning, the hair on his neck standing up at the feeling of them watching him. Dumping the blue in the sink, scrubbing it off his hands, watching it spin and roll down the metal sides. 

Ghostbur visibly brightened, chatting away with Tommy, Ranboo standing with both a twitchy, yet happy smile. 

Techno flexed his fingers and scrubbed at the rough patches on his wrists. Running his tongue over his teeth. “Techno.” He turned and looked at the other between pink curls. 

The ghost was staring at his hooves, he tapped one softly, “Where are your boots?” White vacant eyes glanced around, a little wild. “You- you…” Ranboo warped softly, drawing attention to him. 

He fidgeted before he followed the endermans eyes to the ender chest sitting against a wall. “Um. Can I?” 

Techno swallowed a snarl and stepped away from it. 

“You don’t go anywhere without them. You wouldn’t lose them.” Techno snorted, glaring at the wall. The chest creeks, Techno keeps his eyes away from the others, perhaps it's the panic vibrating under his skin, or the fact he feels raw, exposed- around people he never voluntarily has shown his face to. 

Ranboo's held out a pair of boots. _His_ boots, Techno makes a noise low in his throat, grabbing the pair, and curling them tightly to his chest. The duck had made it prominent when Techno was pulling off armor that _pigs_ don’t deserve shoes. Had made him take off his boots instead of the ankle and shin guards strapped to them. 

Techno would never admit out loud he hates the feeling of something far too soft, it makes his skin crawl. Standing on wet grass made him want to vomit half the time. 

That doesn’t mean he loves his boots either. The specially made soles had long worn down after thousands of bed wars games. Deaths tallying up stained to the bottoms. That the bottoms aren’t uncomfortable, that he can’t function with the textures. 

Still- 

He clutches the boots to his chest and stares up at the enderman hybrid; whose eyes were sad, and soft. “I only grabbed those. What _Quackity_ did was wrong, and- and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let _him-”_

He glanced at Tommy who was standing quietly next to Wilbur, Techno swallowed- blinking at the ground. _Chat_ cooed rather softly, their voices sticking against his tongue. 

“This doesn’t change anythin’.” 

Ears dropped, and the enderman stepped back a small bit. “I know”.

“You still helped them kill me.” His voice stuck in his throat, a growl stumbling out after it. “I still don’t like you.” 

Ranboo’s hands fidgeted, “I know.” 

Techno nodded sharply and sunk to the floor. Sliding a boot on his hoof, basking in the sound of the ties smacking against the worn leather. 

\---

Em bounced along in front of him, darting between trees and yipping excitedly. Trying to snatch up a mouth full of snow. Techno watched her with a warmth in his chest, trailing after her as she ran ahead. She turned once she reached the top of the hill, her tail wagging wildly. He smiled at her, _Chat_ cooing softly in his head. 

When he reached the top she danced around his legs, she’d come to realize she was just a little bit too big to stand between his legs. So she jumped against his side and licked his chin before running off again. 

He sped up a bit, hair falling in his face at every tiny twist. A smile tugged at his lips, as she redirected, ran around him, and then darted off. He rumbled softly in his chest, happy to be alone, happy to feel some sort of safely curled around his shoulders. As he watched his overgrown dog roll around in several feet of snow. 

The half snow-covered beach was half-cleared, and he sunk down to sit on the cold sand, watching Em snap her mouth around water.

Techno curled his knees towards his chest, resetting his face on them. Giggling lightly as the dog pushed her face against his, sniffing at his cheeks rather loudly. He pushed at her face, and she pushed back, flopping over on top of him. He squealed, laughter forcing its way out of his chest. 

Her tongue rolled out of her mouth, and she rested her head on his chest. He scratched at her ears, running his fingers over her leather collar. He blinked up at the sky and shoved his face halfway into the fluff on his cloak. 

Em whined softly at him, he blinked at her, scratching her ears again. “I’m okay Girl.” She puffed a blow of air at him, and he hiccuped, realizing his face was wet. Tears making his vision blurry. “We’re goin’ to be alright.” 

\--- 

Tommy clutched the broken communicator closer to his chest, before glancing back at Ghostbur. Swallowing, before rising to his feet. Hands shaking, as he stood before the Ghost of his older brother. “Ghostbur?” White eyes glanced away from the sheep and blinked at him. 

“Yeah, Tommy?” He held out of the box, Wilbur’s eyes glued on it; before Icy hands curled around it, pulling it into translucent hands. He glanced up at him, and then back down. Tommy shifted on his feet. “It’s Techno’s- I was thinking you could see, see if Sam could fix it?” 

The Ghost’s face was vacant, the thought that this was a bad idea was thumping heavily in his head. Aggressive, _Broken. “Even_ after I- Sure Tommy! I can go talk to Sam.” Tommy smiled weakly at the bubbly ghost. Who was everything his brother wasn’t, and yet everything he was.

The Ghost stood, a smile sketched across his face. “Watch Friend for me? I’ll be back soon, I promise.” An icy hand trailed over his shoulder, before the Ghost was phasing through the door, and out onto the cold tundra. He watched the Ghost until he couldn’t see the yellow sweater anymore. 

Tommy swallowed and slid down to the floor. Curling his arms around his knees, blinking several times to rid his eyes of tears. He flexed his fingers and grabbed at the shirt Techno gave him. 

_He didn’t like being alone. Why did he do that?_

\--- 

Sam wiped his hands on his pants, staring down at the Redstone mechanics he had just finished. His hands aching from the tiny paneling, he pushed the button in his hand, excitement rising in his chest as everything lit up and the door slid open softly. His lips twitch, turning around and clicking the button. Watching it close. 

Slipping the button into his pocket, and grabbed his communicator, pulling up an empty text channel, and slid to a seat beside the open panel to the left. Humming under his breath, a tiny hissing thrumming in the back of his mind. 

Rolling his fingers, and hooking a few wires into the machine, watching as the skin twitched blue before the Prisons schematics pulled up, the screen flickering a dark purple. Pushing hair out of his face, and started coding the rest of the door into the database. 

“Sam! Hullo!” He tensed, no one could even get in here, he twisted around, and his heart calmed Ghostbur floated closer. A smile on his lips, eyes vacant, and the ghost was holding tightly to something. “Oh, Hello Ghostbur.” 

He closed the program absently and rose to his feet. Smiling down at the Ghost. “Sam! Have some blue.” A wad of blue dye was handed off to him with the ghost's empty hand, bouncing on his toes. Sam took it, running his fingers over the mess. “Thank you. What can I do for you?” 

His words felt slightly tacky, the blue spilled slightly between his fingers, and he stuck his hand under it before it could splatter to the floor. It pooled in his palms, and he glanced up softly at the Ghost. “Oh! Tom-” Sam’s skin burned as the Ghost cut himself off, expression slipping off the other's face, still, completely still. 

Sam breathed through his nose, the mention of the dead child burned in his throat. “Tommy What Ghostbur?” The Ghost nodded a few times, eyes drawing elsewhere, holding out the thing he was holding tight in his fist. Sam took it, dropping the wad of blue on the floor in his haste; Ghostbur floating off and into a wall before he could ask what the hell it even was. 

He sighed, Ghosts weren’t any better than humans when it came to communicating. He stared down at the machine, and his heart thumped in his throat. It was someone's communicator, something you aren’t supposed to part from. Something that belongs close, it holds everything you’d ever need to know about a person. 

It was broken, he realized. The screen shattered, the back was in pieces, hanging on by a few unlucky cables. Wires were missing, and Redstone panels were shattered in a few places. That of course didn’t stop the screen from flickering to live every time he touched it. 

There was a sick thought, what if this was Tommy’s? He couldn’t make out the words on the screen, and the colors faded. He held it tighter, fear of dropping and breaking it even more stuck in his head. 

It was fixable, from an inexperienced eye it was beyond repair. All Sam needed to do was replace the screen, the casing, and a few of the panels in the back. Probably rewire it, with the way the screen kept fluctuating at every touch. 

He bit his lip and stared down at the exposed wiring in the wall. The Communicator would plague his waking thoughts if he didn't figure out whose it was. If it was Tommy’s. If it wasn’t, no harm right? 

It wouldn’t take long, and Dream had said that he could take his time on it anyway. 

A tiny little detour wouldn’t hurt. 

\--- 

Dream blinked, leaning back against the wood of the community house's floor; tapping his fingers along the woods. He stared at his hands, rolling his wrist, fingers twitching. 

A sigh escaped from his lips, curling forwards, sitting up, and resting his arms on his legs. Hair falling in his face. Reaching over curling his fingers around his mask, setting it back across his face. 

Shaking his head, and heading towards the prison. 

The door was locked, a note taped to the wall. 

_I’m working on a tiny side project, Work should continue tomorrow._

_(I’m at my base if you need me)_

_-Sam_

Dream rolled his eyes, _of course._ No one was ever where he needed to be anymore. Gods. 

\--- 

Sam slid the panel into place, grinning as the light of the screen flickered on, shining off the face of the table. He carefully slipped the temporary clear cover over the communicator, rolling it over in his hands. 

The screen was a steady white, asking for a password; Sam blinked. Most people didn’t have password protectors on Communicators, but then again, the few he’s worked on do sometimes do a hard reset after replacing parts. The information should be safe, he’s just got to bypass the few firewalls protecting it. 

He nabbed his own communicator from the table and plugged it into the tiny admin table Dream had gifted him when he started coding on the prison. Chewing carefully on his lip as he connected The Communicator into it. 

“Sam!” He startled, sliding his headphones off, and lifting his goggles off his face. “Uh- it’s open?” The door cracked, retracting into the ceiling. Dream stepped into his home, steps careful and tracing as he wandered his way to Sam. “Oh, Hello Dream.” 

The mask gave a nod, looking over his shoulder. “Side project?” He glanced down at the mass of code and smiled sheepishly. “Something like that.” He tensed as Dream grabbed the Password protected Communicator up from the table. Rolling it in his hands, though to some amount of relief the other seemed actually aware of the fragile machinery in his fingers. 

It was set back down, Sam let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. “Where did you get it?” Sam shrugged. “Ghostbur wandered in after me I guess, I got a handful of Blue, and then a broken communicator before he was just floating back through a wall. I thought maybe it had been Tommy’s.” He glanced down at it, ghosting at the keys of his admin table. 

Dream’s head tilted, “I mean the Ghost was around him a lot? And perhaps he’s not quite processing what happened? But then I realized, Tommy would have died with his Communicator, it would have just gone completely offline. And this one.” he waved at it, tapping a few lines in with the other hand. “Sparked on every time the screen was touched. So it’s not Tommy’s. Can’t be.” his voice broke off in the end. 

He looked up at the Mask. Dream shrugged. “Unless he isn’t dead.” 

Sam blinked a few times, hands posed, frozen over keys. If only, his mind hissed, the creeper crawling under his skin. “I doubt it. But maybe, I have to finish fixing it first for us to know.” 

He watched the other give a nod, “I’m going to go raid your kitchen, tell me if you find anything?” Sam swallows and lifts his goggles back down on his face. Giving a tiny nod. “Sure.” 

He was ashamed it took him almost 2 hours to bypass the password, grumbling under his breath the entire time. Frustration growing in him as minutes dragged on. It locked him out twice before he could fully rearrange the stupid things code. It wasn’t a regular player's communicator, he knew that. Flexing his fingers, and closing down his Admin table. Watching the screen, warp, before a list of contacts, and messengers appeared. Server lists rolling in, and some blinking out. Sam let out a noise of victory, tapping a few things in, searching for the Communicator’s registry. 

Dream’s mask was askew when he came back, standing a few feet away holding something in his hands. “You in?” Sam nodded, kicking one of his legs out, pushing his goggles off his face. Wincing as they connected with the floor. 

The Registry pulled up, Sam wasn’t sure what he expected but not this. 

_Unregistered Name: Teddy Vidar_

_Registered Name: Technoblade_

_Home Server: [REDACTED],_ _Hypixel_

_Age:_

_Home server: 14_

_Hypixel: 16_

_Dream Smp: 15_

_Smp Earth: 16_

_Smp Live: 15_

_Admin: N/A_

_Class: Piglin Hybrid, Pup; Host_

_Registered Guardian: [REDACTED]_

_Simon Hypixel_

_Server Joining Ping: [REDACTED]_

_[REDACTED]_

_Technoblade has joined the game_

Sam blinked, “So whose is it?” He jerked around to stare at his friend, “Uh, Techno’s.” 

Dream’s mask tilted, stepping forwards. “Techno’s?” Sam gave a sharp, nod, unconsciously shutting the registry before Dream could see it. Something ugly reared its head in his chest, “Huh, odd.” 

He nodded sharply, shrugging, before staring down at the thing. “I know where he is if you want me to take it to him.” panic gripped Sam’s throat, _This was his friend? Why was he being like this?_ “I need to fit a new case to it, I’ll just track down Philza when I’m finished. Plus There are a few other things I need to do, replace the battery, make a few tweaks to the paneling. I’ve got it, Thank you though.” 

The lie stuck heavily to his tongue. 

Dream nodded, “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow Sam.” 

He swallowed as the door slid shut behind the admin, and he gripped the box tighter in his hands. Sam pulled up the registry again and Stared. He stared at hidden information, at deleted information, he stared at Hypixel’s name with something nasty in his gut. 

He stared down at the age column. Something thick was caught in his chest, his mind buzzing with emotions he doesn’t know the names for. Colling thick and terrifying in his body. 

_Did Wilbur know?_

His mind was only one intelligent thought, thinking back to the moves of a man- _Boy,_ holding wither skulls in his palms. Rage in each of his movements, anger in the arches of his swings. A child grieving he now understood, a child standing in the shoes of a man, used, betrayed, _hated._ Sam fought with him, alongside him then, but- 

That doesn’t change anything, and yet it changes everything. They tried and treated him like an adult, rather than a child lashing out for something they would not understand. He blinked down at the screen. They did that To Tommy too, adults, Children were too big shoes. 

He realizes there, that no one was paying attention. Thinking about it now, he seemed so young, so bright, his humor twisted and happy. Bright laughter, childish. 

Sam sluggishly, rooted through his box of cases, grabbing a soft pink and blue one. Fitting the case around the edges. _What was he supposed to do with this information?_ He swallowed and watched his door creep into the ceiling. 

\--- 

Phil stared at the creeper hybrid standing in his doorway, “Yes?” Sam fidgets before holding out a pink and blue communicator. The creeper’s eyes flittering away from his face. He reached out and took it from his hands, the screen came to life, opening up to a channel with his name at the top. 

The last set of messages staring up at him, mocking him. 

Philza: I’m sorry 

Philza: They found the compass

Philza: I’m so sorry Pup. They are coming. 

He glares up at Sam, hands curling around the thing, lips pulling back on their own accord. “Where did you get this?” Sam shifted on his feet, a low hiss escaping his lips. “Ghostbur gave it to me, I didn’t- I would _never.”_

Phil curled his fingers over the edges, “It was smashed when it was given to me, and- I fixed it? But there’s also something I think you sho-” He glanced up at the other, sharp, a glare painting his features. 

Sam visibly swallowed, “You deserve to see.” Phil watched his hands, dragon vibrating under his skin, as the creeper pulled up the Registry of the stupid box. Twisting it back around to see it. His eyes catching purple across the screen. 

Something settles hard and cold in his stomach, wings curling around his body, the age ranges are a part of everyone's communicator, even if the server is gone. It was just how it went. But something was terrifying to see the ages range from 14-16. 

It was hard enough to keep track of, so the communicator took care of it for you.

Rage pooled in his stomach, he glared down at the chain attached to his foot, too grounding, too suffocating. He glanced at Sam, watching as the Creeper hybrid noticed the way they were actually keeping him here. “No wonder it smells like a pissed-off Nesting Dragon, from here to Erets Castle.” 

A laugh puffed out of his mouth, Sam’s mouth screwed up, the other glaring at the chains like they were attached to his own leg. “Give me 10 minutes to snap it and I can get you back to your pup.” Respect and genuine fondness formed in his chest, the dragon calming. 

Phil nodded, “I’ve got to pack.” Sam nodded, stepping into his prison, sitting down on the floor; running his fingers over the anchor on the floor. “Hybrids are not animals.” The creeper's voice was low, anger simmering under his normally calm tone. “We are not Monsters either.” 

He smiled down at the other, mouth pulling enough to show off his K9’s. 

Gathering a mess of things, his armor pieces, swords, shoving things in both his bag and into his ender chest. Shorting through clothes, and glancing back at Sam every once and a while. The chain was almost broken, urging him to move faster. 

He slid down to the floor next to the creeper hybrid, his bag placed and ready to go by the door. Staring at the work the other had done. “I, if Techno’s home server says he’s _14,_ but here he’s 15-” Phil swallowed, pressing his hands against his face. 

“Mental he’s fourteen, Sure here time is a bit faster, but for his home server, he's rather young. Hell for a piglin he hasn’t even reached the actual stage of earning a place in a pack, he’s basically still a toddler by those terms. Wouldn’t have even ventured past a few feet from the Bastian.” 

He stares at his palms. 

Sam falls incredibly silent, Phil flinches when the chain snaps. 

Clattering to the wood floor, and Sam snaps the piece curled around his ankle. He stares blankly at it. Sam rises to his feet. “Let's get you to your Pup.” 

Phil’s never been happier for someone on this gods-forsaken server to understand what it’s like to be a _full-grown,_ hostile mob hybrid. 

\--- 

Techno pressed his face into his palms, listening to _Chat_ overlap each other, something was wrong, _Something_ was always wrong. He flexed his fingers, dropping his hands down to his side. Holding down panic that crept up his throat the louder they got, the more demanding they got, the more he felt like they were crawling up his throat, begging to be let out. 

He grabbed at one of his piercings, stumbling back towards the house, Em trailing after him, whining softly. He ignored her, curling his fingers into his jacket, hands cold, he should have worn gloves. 

Pressing the palm of his hand against his chest, wandering his way back to the cabin. Shutting the Turtles gate behind him, flinching when the lock dropped a little too loudly. Ears pinning themselves to the sides of his head, “Hush _Chat,_ Please.” 

They liked to listen to him sometimes, but today it seemed to only encourage them. Screaming, voices so blinded, none of them clearly on the same page; he couldn’t actually pick out a single voice. He worked his jaw, climbing the stairs, curling his arms around his chest. 

He pushed softly at the door, kicking it carefully closed behind him. Tommy was upstairs, Ghostbur’s voice floating around after the blond teens. Techno swallowed, before grabbing the back of the couch, curling his fingers around his ears. It wouldn’t help, at all-in any shape or form.

His mouth tasted like ash, curling his legs to his chest, hands grabbing for strands of curls. “I can’t _understand_ you.” _Chat_ didn’t calm down, a shriek and then a new round of screaming. He swallowed, tears curling down his cheeks. “ _Please.”_

Somewhere along the times, he realized that if Tommy came down now, he couldn’t explain this. He let go of one of his ears, rising shakily to his feet; one arm curling around his stomach. One hand still latched in his hair. 

Phil’s room was a mess, a mix of his own things, and of the others- but the bed was half made, and something soothed in his chest. Any type of comfort right now was welcomed. Shutting the door behind him, climbing up on the bed, curling under covers. Hands placed tightly over his ears. A hiccupy sob burning against his lungs. 

_Chat_ was still loud, still completely unintelligent. His head thumped, a migraine building behind his eyes, tears spilled down his cheeks. 

\---

Tommy ripped a piece of bread up, offering a piece of Em, the Wolf-dog curled up against the door to Phil’s room. Techno had vanished into their after he went to take care of the turtles and hadn’t come out. Tommy curled his legs closer to his chest and shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. 

He glanced around, leaning back in his chair, gnawing on the edge of his bread. Em growled, startling him, fear rose in his chest; she had done that when Dream showed up that one time. Watching the wolf-dog with bated breath as she rose from her place on the floor, lips pulled back, exposing her rows of sharp ass teeth. 

“Techno? I need you to-” Stumbling to his feet, Em curled in front of him, pressed tightly against his legs. Tommy sucked in a tight breath, hands curling towards the knife on the table. The door swung open, Em barked, low and threatening. Whoever was in the doorway froze, Tommy stepped back. 

“Tommy?” His body was on fire, blinking tears out of his eyes, dropping the knife. “Oh, _Tommy.”_ Phil’s face was one of relief, striding across the room; Tommy let out a sob. _Safe._ Em growled again, but she sat down carefully close to him. Phil curled around him, wings tucking him close. Fear slid down into his stomach, curling closer to the Dragon hybrid as he could get. 

Hands held his face in like he was something terribly valuable. Tommy swallowed, reaching up and scrubbing tears from his eyes. His own hands shaking, “I’m so sorry, honey; I should have never-” Tommy smiled weakly up at him, a laugh bubbling up carefully in his chest, weak and wet. 

He was pulled back into a tight hug, a rumble vibrating under his skin; Tommy clung to Phil. 

_Safe._

\--- 

Sam’s heart lodged itself in his throat, not only was the giant Wolf-dog basically standing guard to a door, but Tommy was _Alive._

Curled into Phil’s hold, Tears painting rather pale cheeks; he looked smaller. Sam stepped forwards, mind spinning. The past 2 days was beginning to drag on how much information like this he could process. He almost didn’t want to actually believe what was happening, Tommy was dead, Tubbo had spent the past 3 weeks basically locked in his house. 

Dream had spent as many of his hours searching for the kid, and he was just _here._ Thousands of miles away from L’manburg, in a cabin in a tundra. His mind hissed at him, _with Techno._ When bright blue eyes peered at him from over Phil’s shoulder he knew that the tiny amount of peace they had was gone. 

Because the fear that flooded them broke Sam’s heart. 

“What the Fuck!” The boy's voice cracked on the end, pushing away from Phil, eyes wide, stepping away. “I won’t go back, You- you, You can’t make me! I Won’t! I won’t!” Sam stepped forwards, the boy's breath hitching, scrambling away from him. Hands curling upwards to protect himself. Phil stood frozen, blinking between them, something Sam could tell was the beginning of rage in his eyes. 

Samm held out his hands, “Hey, no, no Tommy. It’s okay, I’m not taking you anywhere. I’m just here because I was helping Philza, I’m not here for you. I will never be here for you.” The blond boy shook his head, “ _Liar.”_

Phil reached forwards, pressed two fingers to Tommy’s wrist. “Look at me Tom’s.” Sam watched as fearful blue eyes latched onto the face of his father. “Ghostbur went to Sam with a broken communicator. Sam fixed it, came to me to find Techno, and I brought him here. It’s okay.” There was something terrifying in the way Tommy visibly relaxed. Sam glanced over to the wolf-dog, her teeth pulled back, but no growl escaping. 

He realized the house was quiet, no one had arrived to see why there was so much screaming, no one had come from upstairs or out of the room. Sam swallowed, “Where is Techno?” Tommy glanced over at him before his eyes darted to the closed door. “He went in there 4 hours ago and hasn’t come back out.” 

\---

Phil set Tommy gently on the couch, running a hand through his hair, before stretching out his wings. Crossing the room and pushing open the spare room’s door. 

The room smelled like distressed Piglin, it set his nerves on fire. Shutting the door, before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Techno was curled up in a ball, blue eyes wide; _awake_ , hands curled around his ears. 

“Hey Pup.” Eyes flickered to his face, he reached out brushing pink curls out of his eyes. “Chat being loud?” Techno whined, a hand reaching out for him. Tears tracing his cheeks. Phil laid down beside him. 

Small scared fingers traced along his cheekbones, before clutching at a handful of shirt. Phil rumbled softly at him, pulling the pup closer. “ _Loud.”_

Phil nodded, running his hands through short hair. “Why are they being loud?” Techno grunts, a hand still curled around his ear. “Too many, don’t know.” 

He hums softly, pulling Techno closer; shifting into a sit. Pulling the small teen up into his lap. His heart broke at the fact the kid was still wearing his boots, and a majority of old diamond armor. “When did you get your boots back Pup?” he ran his fingers through the kid's hair, whipping tears off his cheeks. Techno grumbled. 

Phil smiled carefully at him, “Ranboo.” He nodded, rubbing a hand down the kid's back. Techno growled, “I still don’t like him.” Phil swallowed, pressing his head against the other's forehead. Blue eyes focusing, “You don’t have to.” 

Techno mumbled softly, hands sliding down from his ears. “Quiet.” 

His pup nodded softly, “They like you.” 

Phil hummed in the back of his throat. “So you’ve said.” Techno blinked at him slowly, as if he’s really looking at him for the first time since he showed up. “You make them quiet. _Dad. Dad. Dad. Dadza. Dragon. Pack. Dad. Dad. Dadza. Philza. Phliza, Home, he’s home.”_ Phil stared at his boy, his voice was echoey for a long moment, repeating overlapping. As if someone was using his voice box. 

He watched as Techno moved as if someone was tugging his limbs around, sliding off Phil’s lap; scrubbing at his face. Standing there, Phil rose to his feet, reaching out and curled a hand into pink curls. “I’m proud of you.” 

Techno’s grin was wobbly, face turning a light pink. 

Phil grinned back at him. “You didn’t tell me you kidnapped Tommy.” 

The responding laugh was bright bubbly, he watched his Pup stumble, mouth pulling wide. Exposing his tongue long enough for the tiny gold barb to catch the light. The teen's shoulder light, loose, pink hands reached for his hand. 

His dragon preened at the clingy hands. 

“I think I got kidnapped, Phil- feels like.” Phil snorted, ruffling pink fluff; yanking on an ear. Techno growled, hands still shaking, body still wobbly. But he was laughing. Phil swallowed, perhaps that’s all they needed right now. 

\--- 

Tommy curls his fingers around his compass, watching it flit back and forth as Tubbo moves around. Running his thumb over the glass top. The cold nipped at his bones, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Back pressed against the railings of Techno’s porch, the moon is hardly visible between approaching dark, heavy clouds. 

Fingers running over the tiny blemishes on the back, Tommy rested his head against the wood. Heart lodging into his throat as the thing twisted and proceeded to spin around in circles endlessly, trying desperately to lock back on Tubbo’s location. 

He let go, the metal circle thumping against his chest. Cold even through his stolen jacket. The door cracked open slightly, and he blinked up at Techno. He smiled slightly, and Techno stepped out onto the porch. Hands full of blankets, the others cloak dragging the ground. 

Tommy shifted, legs numb, Techno slid down to sit beside him, throwing a blanket at him. Em follows behind, settling down after Techno; Her large white head resting in his lap. Tommy reaches over and rubs at her ears. Amber eyes rest on him, Techno huffs slightly, batting at his hand. 

He glares at the other, Techno leaning back against the rails; staring straight up at the sky. Tommy followed his gaze, a few stars trying their hardest peaked through the clouds. “You- You were never Theseus.” Techno’s hands were buried in Em’s fur. Tommy blinked at him. “I- I shouldn’t have made that comparison at you… you.” 

Tommy rubbed his fingers over the edges of the compass again. “I know. I think.” Techno snorted, his eyes were closed when Tommy looked back at him. There was a tiny smatter of freckles across his nose, most of them obstructed by the dark mess curling over his face. 

“It was Wilbur right?” Tommy’s tongue felt heavy, Techno hummed. “I- I, yeah.” he watches the other give a tiny nod. He flexes his fingers over the compass again. The glass cold under his palm. “Makes sense.” 

Techno was still, and the amount of blankets the other brought out actually made him rather warm, the cold that had previously seeped in his bones was gone. Pulling the blanket closer to his face, his hand still half curled around the compass. Techno was quiet, Tommy glanced at him slightly. Staring up at a man he considered at one point a hero of his, of a man with a scarred face, and perhaps more demons than Tommy had even considered. 

He dropped his head on the other shoulder, slumping down on the porch. Techno tensed before relaxing slightly. “I want my disc’s back Techno.” the feeling under vinyl under his nails was missed, even if he had others. He wanted the other two back. 

The compass was warmed slightly under his fingers, even if it was sucking the warmth from them. Hands flexing, “I- I could help you get them back?” Tommy lifted his head slightly to look up at the other, dark blue eyes blinked up at the sky. “If you,”

A smile edged at his lips. “I would- Yeah, let's get my discs back Techno.” 

\---

Techno bounced on his toes, pulling on Phil’s arm. “Come on!” The dragon laughed slightly, wings making divots in the snow. The snow was cold even though his boots, his cloak dragging the ground. The mountain was large, and Techno’s hands ache from the number of hours he’s spent digging it out. 

“I’m coming Tech.” He snapped his teeth together. Pulling again on Phil’s wrist. 

The dragon hybrid rolled his eyes and picked up his pace. The smooth expanse of the wall was beautiful, all of Techno’s hard work hidden behind one single wall. He turned to Phil, “Stay.” Darting off to the side of the mountain, dipping his hand into one of the cracks. Fingers locking around the lock. 

He grinned back at Phil and yanked it open. “Watch.” 

The wall rolled into the floor, locking heavily into place. The bunker was bare-walled, he darted over to Phil’s side. He blinked up at the other, his tail free, dusting snow under his cloak. “Holy shit Mate.” The dragon stepped over into the threshold, pride bubbled in Techno’s chest; mouth pulling into a wide grin against his will. 

He side-eyes a few chests, brushing past Phil. There was an old set of Netherite armor from the Revolution, hanging from an Armor stand, he ran his fingers over the edge of the chest plate. Swallowing down fear at his reflection, the enchantments sparking out and biting at his fingers. 

_Thorns_

Twisting around to stare at Phil, the dragon had opened a chest, staring wide-eyed into space. Techno swallowed, dragging his boots across the floor, standing at the other elbow, half-tucked into the crook of his wing. “Where did you get all of these?” His voice was quiet and terribly emotionless. 

Techno swallowed, licking his tusk, clicking the tongue piercing on the edge of it. Phil’s eyes were a steady purple, holding a half-broken wither skull in his hands. “Half of these are completely Butchered. _Where did you get these?”_ Techno stared at his gloved covered hands. 

The scars underneath mock him. Even if he can’t see them, his fingers boney, withered, pink-tinged skin marked with dark scrapping marks. Marks dragged with scabs, pulled on, scratched at. Blood under his nails. 

He stares up at Phil again, at the skull with a blundered top. _Would never make a good wither._ Phil’s hands gripped the still slightly attached jaw, one side hanging off. It’s missing teeth, most of these chests have skulls with missing teeth.

The skull shattered when Phil dropped it, reaching into the chest again, holding another up. Black dust painting his wrist in a sickening mimic of the scars on Techno’s body. “I- I, they get _loud,”_ he mumbles the words out, _Chat_ screaming as another skull cracks on the Blackstone floor. Stepping back, “They want blood Phil, and, and- I don’t _wan- I_ can’t, give them that. I _can’t._ Too much, too loud.” Purple eyes are furious, another skull clatters to the floor. 

“The effects of hunting these skeletons this long _can kill you.”_

_Technoblade never Dies!_

_Not even close Baby!_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Skulls for the Skull throne_

He fidgets, staring at the soulless, the eyeless face staring up at him. “ _I- I can’t_ kill people anymore, Phil. _I can’t do it.”_ Phil’s teeth snapped, reaching over to open another chest, more skulls staring up at him. 

“So you set yourself in a position that can get you killed at every turn. A speck of Soul Sand and this room is nuclear. Do you understand that?” Techno nods rapidly, ears flopping with every move. “I do, no, no soul sand. I promise- I, I forgot those were even there. I just-” Phil grabbed his face softly in his hands. 

_Liar_

_Such a liar!_

_Phil doesn’t like Lies_

_Angry at us_

_We did bad,_

_No_

_Skulls_

_Good_

_Blood, watch them fall_

_Make them fall_

_Makes Dad upset, we don’t demand any more_

_Shut up_

_Blood_

_Blood_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_SKulls for the Skull Throne_

Phil stared at him, Techno grabbed carefully at his wrists. “You aren’t human Techno, no matter how much we want to pretend at their games. We are Hybrids. We are a danger to all the things that will never affect them. Do you understand that?” Techno blinked, heart, rolling uselessly in his gut. “Your Wither scars? Those are what leads to skin rot in your kind 90% of the time,” Tears pooled in his eyes. 

“I-” 

The dragon Plowed on. “I cannot lose you. You are stronger than those voices in your head, the scars on your skin show that the human in you helps you. But it also hurts you. The piglin hurts you. But those voices in your head will never understand what you being their _Host,_ really means.” Techno clamped his mouth shut, a sob smashing against his chest. 

The hands on his face were soft, and he knew logically he could pull away if he wanted too, but something was tight in his chest. He felt both safe because Phil was _Safe,_ Phil was _Pack._ But he was upset, angry, _At him?_ Purple eyes bore into his own blue ones. Fear curling in his chest. 

“ _Teddy_ .” His mouth was dry, tongue heavy in his mouth. “I’m so proud of you. I am, everything you’ve done. I’m incredibly _Proud_ of you. But Pup, I need you to understand that I can’t have you running off and getting yourself killed on accident.” Techno blinked, _Chat_ was a lul in the back of his head. His ears buzzing, humming- a war chant in the making. 

Hands curled around him and pulled him into a hug. Wings curling around him, his hands finding the back of Phil’s coat without thought. Face pressing into the other's chest. “ _I_ _can’t lose you too.”_

_You won’t Phil, I promise._

_\---_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) 
> 
> For a tiny piece of background. "Vidar" Is an Aesir God, and from what I read he was often referred to as the "Quiet God." So.. I had to, it was beyond my control. For a better explanation of why I picked it, have this. 
> 
> "Vidar is one of the many Aesir gods venerated by the Vikings, but little knowledge has come down to us about him. ... He was Vidar the silent, the possessor of the iron shoe, the enemy and slayer of Fenrir, the avenger, and he who inhabits the homestead of his father." 
> 
> He was almost sort of the god of vengeance. I mean. It's all laid out at my feet. 
> 
> If anyone actually reads these. Have a tiny Norse mythology lesson. 
> 
> I Love comments, I know I didn't respond to any last chapter. And I'm so sorry about that- cause I know I normally do or try to. I just am a bit of a disaster lately. Because I have mentioned this once I am in Highschool still, so please be kind. I'm trying.  
> I'm actually really excited to write the third chapter, there's a lot of ideas in my head, and almost a fully laid out storyline. I have a plan for once, look at me go, being more diligent about fanfic than my For grade English essays. Man fuck those things I hate them.
> 
> Edit:  
> Me: pours my heart and soul into Phil’s parts because His character has Depth, and I want to see all that depth. 
> 
> Also me: Father Phil, Dadza. I make you Dad. And I make that most of your traits.
> 
> Edit (3/16/21): I hope none of you are too attached to Em.


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